The Revelations of an Innocent Mind
by Blooming on a Snow
Summary: Edward, aka Masen, is a hired killer, infamous in the underground world. Bella, orphaned, novice nun, was raised in the Cathedral as a devote catholic. One chance encounter would change the way they view the world, and themselves, as a whole. A tug of war, and heart, between the pure and the damned.
1. Chapter 1: The Path Less Taken

**A/N:**

Hi!

This is not a chapter update.

But I just want to say that I have decided to publish this story, so I will be taking it down in a few days once the preparation is over.

I know you would think, "What the hell? This isn't finished yet!"

It isn't. That's why I'm making it as a trilogy (The Pure and Damned Trilogy).

I will publish the chapters 1-22 as the first book, that's why right now, I will be marking this story as "complete".

The Title of my book would be "Confessions of a Novice Nun (Part I of the Pure and Damned Trilogy).

I have always wanted to publish it, and when the opportunity arrived, I didn't want to miss it.

Also, there were TONS more thing I wanted to write before really finishing the story, that I could all divide them into three books.

So, with that said, you will find the sequel "The Revelations of a Tortured Soul" on my stories here in fanfiction (where I will move chapter 23 there as the first and second chapter). Don't worry, since that story isn't finished yet, I would still be continuing posting it here.

Please don't hate me.

Thank you for all your support.

And thank you a TON to my wonderful editor, the best, the most-supportive, Fran S. Walsh (SunflowerFran).

Sincerely,

Trisha Cuarts

(Blooming on a Snow)

P.S. You will find that the summary, preface, and the last part on chapter 22 were re-written.

Enjoy!

* * *

**PREFACE**

_Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned:_

I, Isabella Marie Swan, have fallen in love.

I, Isabella Marie Swan, a _novice nun_, have fallen in love with a _murderer._

I don't deem falling in love as a sin, nor do I deem falling in love with a murderer sinful at all. But I wanted to say my confession; I wanted you to listen to me; I wanted you to guide me…

Please, don't easily judge me.

For I know that there is something peculiar about the way Edward Cullen looks at me. I couldn't put a name on it but it is as if his cold-stoned emerald eyes have seen just too much and yet too little. I fascinate him: that much I could claim. Just the way he acts around me is enough indication that for him, I am a refreshing change.

He has the most tortured eyes I've seen, as though he has suffered a thousand years of agony. But when he would sometimes look at me, his eyes would suddenly exude a calmness, a serenity, as though he was a blind man for so long and was seeing the light for the first time.

I wanted to help him; like how I've always dreamed of helping others; like how I've always prayed to God.

But ... how?

There's only one way to find out ... if this wouldn't kill me.

I, Isabella Marie Swan, a novice nun, have fallen in love with Edward Cullen, a murderer.

And this is the first of my confessions.

* * *

**CHAPTER 1: THE PATH LESS TAKEN**

I walked into the roomful of children, who were orphaned like me, and sat at the center of their make-shift stage. My delighted eyes scanned the innocent faces in front of me, and like how I always feel around people who have the same in experience as me, I saw angels with broken wings, struggling to rise up and carry the burden placed upon their feeble little shoulders. Though my heart instantaneously broke, I still smiled and carried on with our activity.

"Last week, Cathy was fortunate enough to find a new family. God really is great and may He bless their newly formed family. Let us say a little prayer."

I bowed and was copied by all children. I did the sign of the cross and spoke clearly:

_"Lord God, thank you for the blessing You have given Cathy last week. It will be a new start for her, and we all pray that You will guide her and bless her like we know You would. You have sacrificed Your only son just to save us all. That is how much You love us, and that is why Your son Jesus carried the cross so that none of us would ever do it again._

_"Father God, today, twenty-four more children are carrying the same cross in their little shoulders. We all pray that You may bestow upon them again Your eternal love and let them settle with families that will love them, like You did with Cathy. But we know, in Your perfect plan and perfect time, You will do just that._

_"Thank You Lord for everything._

_"In Jesus' name, we pray ..."_

_"Amen,"_ chorused by everyone. I did the sign of the cross again, and so did the children.

"All right, now, this activity is much like the others. I know Sister Angela has taught you this morning the story of Noah and his ark. I want you to pair in groups of three to discuss what your favorite part of the story was, and how you interpret it."

Groups soon began forming. Not too far away I saw Lindsay, the latest addition to the group, pouting about the way she was not being asked. I walked towards her, and smiling, I kneeled in front of her.

"What's the matter sweetie? Can't find a group yet?"

She didn't speak.

I immediately understood that she still hadn't recovered passed her isolation, and was still unable to grasp the idea of the other children smiling about whilst she was wallowing in sorrow about her parents' passing. It is the hardest part of being recently orphaned – it is hard to reconnect with people, hard to live life outside rather than stay inside their heads, and hard to forgive themselves for remaining alive while their parents suffered death. Everyone's cases is different, but usually the process involves pain, then hatred, and would turn to self-blame if not properly dealt with. I scanned the children around me, searching for an incomplete group.

"You see Sarah and Carla over there?" I pointed at the two girls who were already discussing their task without completing their group of three. "They need another group-mate, so I suggest, you go to them and ask them if Noah's son Hem had his own family."

Curling her brows in confusion, she asked, "Hem?"

"Yes, Hem. He is alone at first, you see. The girl he was supposed to marry died right before his eyes."

She gasped. "Sister Angela didn't say that."

"Well, aren't you curious to know?"

She bit her lip in contemplation. I waited for her to answer whilst displaying an encouraging smile, until she finally voiced her true concern.

"What if they don't like me?"

"You can always group with me." Her eyes grew just a fraction - the idea I have expressed seemed to appeal to her. "But only, if they say 'no'," I added.

Still looking troubled, she sat with her head on her knees, hugging her legs. Seeing her curl into a ball, I knew at that instant that her pain was deeper than what our simple discussion could cure.

I knew that I needed to do something about it.

"I'll let you in on a little secret." Showing a bit of curiosity, she casted a shy look up to my face. "I once almost burned the whole church."

Her look of shock made me laugh.

"The first time I got here," I continued, "I thought everyone was scary. I avoided them on purpose. One time, I accidentally lit a blanket on fire and the smoke enveloped our room, alerting all our superiors. When the fire was put out, they asked who started it. I couldn't answer - afraid I would be thrown out to the streets again. And guess what happened?"

"What?"

"Sister Angela told everyone she did it."

She gasped.

"What happened to her?"

"She got punished because of it. She was forbidden to go out our quarters for three days."

"But why did she take the blame?"

"Later that afternoon, I came to her to ask her why she told everyone she did it, and confessed I was the one at fault. Do you know what she said?"

"What?"

"She told me, in her exact words, 'Now you talk. If I didn't do it, your saliva will rot by not talking to anyone.'"

Her lips twitched to a small smile. It was a big enough step against her somber expression.

"Because of that, we became the best of friends. You don't want to burn a blanket and have someone get punished first before you gain friends, don't you?"

She shook her head in a "no."

"If that's the case, those new friends are waiting." I gestured with my head towards the two girls.

It took Lindsay a second before finally deciding to face her fears. As she stood up, my heart melted upon witnessing her simple show of strength.

With new found determination, she walked purposefully to the two girls. Upon reaching them, she whispered quietly but clearly what I told her to ask them. The two girls took a moment to digest what she said before Sarah, the girl on the left, scooted closer to Carla and seemed to ask Lindsay to join their group.

Lindsay's shy smile showed how touched she was by the offer. It, in turn, made me smile.

The activity ended without much episode – the only heated argument was when Greg and John debated why the snakes were let inside the ark – and the children all returned to their quarters with new learning about God's divine wrath and how people were punished because of it.

And of course, it ended with Lindsay finally gaining friends.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Jolting in surprise, I turned towards Mother Emilia and was greeted by her knowing smile.

It was after two in the afternoon. I was seated on the bench of the Cathedral's garden. All my musings were focused on the earlier events as around me, the wind dances with the flowers and the leaves. Mother Emilia took a seat beside me.

"Mother Superior, I'm just ... There's just something I don't understand."

"Pray tell."

I bit my lip in hesitation. With a short glance at her open face, my courage to talk was slightly fuelled.

"I know life isn't fair, and God made it so, and suffering was created to bring compassion, and that all makes sense. But what I don't understand is why suffering always happens to innocent people. What is their sin?"

Her fond smile grew with every word I spoke until it was so big on her face when she spoke next.

"Ah, I see. You have those questions. And I am assuming, since you've been thinking about this for a while now, you have at least formulated some answers in your head, right?"

"Guesses, mother, not answers," I corrected. "One guess is that God tests people to see if after all of their suffering, they would still be loyal to him, like the story of Job."

The kind Mother gingerly took both my hands in hers, looking deep into my eyes which contain the color that she named me from.

"Everyone gets tested, Isabella, not only a select few. And only after death do we get judged."

"Well then, why punish them?"

"You said 'guesses'. I assume you have more than one guess?"

I bit my lip again in another hesitation.

"It's just ... it's ridiculous."

"I'll be the judge of it."

I exhaled loudly.

"Well, you know how God is alone up there?" I gestured upwards with my head. "I just think that maybe, sometimes He feels lonely so he makes us do things for His sole entertainment."

The moment I was finished, a laugh broke from the mother's lips. I blushed, feeling embarrassed at the ridiculousness of my answer.

"No one can attest otherwise, so I guess your hunch is still safe."

"I'm sorry mother." My blush was deepening in shade by the second.

"No need to feel sorry for being curious." She fondly stroked my cheek. "And to answer your question," she added, "I think, Isabella, that God creates suffering to strengthen us, not to punish us. He never punishes. He only makes us realize what things are important to us and to always cherish them so that one day, we can be stronger, able to fight any storms thrown in our lives. Because by then, we know what are the things we could not live without. By then, we know what to fight for."

Hearing her explanation made me feel significantly smaller in wisdom compared to her.

Shaking my head, I muttered, "I have much to learn."

"Much, that's true. But no need to worry now. In time, all your questions will have answers. And you wouldn't need someone to answer them for you anymore; in time, you'll get to answer them by yourself."

"When is that going to happen, mother?"

"Maybe next week?"

Confused by her instant response, I asked, "What do you mean?"

She removed her hand from mine to retrieve something from the pocket of her habit. Once she handed it to me, I saw that it was a letter encased in an envelope.

I immediately tore the envelope open to see what the letter inside says.

I hadn't even read half of its contents before suddenly, Mother Superior started speaking again to explain it to me.

"That letter is from our Bishop Ben Cheney. It's about your mission. The time has come for you to go out and change the world. You know how this works."

Not believing my ears, I uttered the explanation that has been explained to me over and over since the day I have decided to train as a nun.

"I'll be out there for months - could be years, depending upon your instructions - and do the mission you want me to carry out until you feel I have gained enough experience to come back."

She nodded solemnly.

"That always depends if after going out there, you still would want to come back."

Upon this news, a mixture of emotions started brewing inside of me: On the one hand, I was thrilled - giddy, even - to finally reach this stage, which was the last requirement I needed before I could start pursuing my career to be an official nun. It has always been a dream for me to help people and to change their lives.

On the other, I was terrified.

I didn't have much knowledge of how the world works.

What if I couldn't last a week? What if I meet dangerous people? And worse, what if, after all that I have served and stayed at the church, I really am not fit to be a nun?

The answers to my questions now lie on my hands.

"I'll leave you to your thoughts. I'm sure this is too much for you to digest, but I hope I'll have an answer tomorrow morning. Always remember, if you think you're not yet ready for your mission, you can always tell us. We'll postpone your travel." _And possibly leave doubt on my capability to be a nun._

"Where am I assigned?"

"In New York."

With that said, she finally left me alone to mule over what we had conversed.

I've always lived my church life in the town of Woodinville, Washington. Since the day Mother Superior found me lurking in the streets of Seattle, with my sad state of grease and dirt, asking alms for my growling stomach a total of eighteen years ago, and took me in her care, I've never step foot outside of the church long enough to familiarize myself of the modern world. I remember life being cruel even then to a five-year-old child me, but still, I was a kid and didn't know much.

But now, I was no longer a child.

Now, society already views me as an adult.

And now, I was in more danger than when I was a beggar.

Nevertheless, this is the path that I have always followed. This has always been how I imagined myself as - a nun, touching lives and serving people like what Mother Superior and Sister Angela do. And my bus ticket to this challenging journey lies literally on my palms.

So as I thought about these at night, I realized that I already know where I will find myself next week. I just hope that New York is as splendid as how it was described in the song.


	2. Chapter 2: Different Faces of Humanity

**09-28-14 - Important Update**

Currently changing the title: "I'm in Love with a Murderer" to "The Revelations of an Innocent Mind". Hope there will be no confusions. Thanks!

* * *

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 2: DIFFERENT FACES OF HUMANITY**

A cab directly behind us buzzed loudly, making the taxi driver of my hired cab jolt as he stepped on the gas, shooting us forward to the convoluted traffic. I registered briefly the green traffic light counting to four.

Hello New York.

Being used to normal human population of Forks, I couldn't stop craning my head to watch the throngs of people walking by the sidewalk. People of all walks of life, boldly showcasing their distinctiveness with the way they walk, and dress, and move… Forks people seemed to be just one boring person in comparison. And the buildings, all tall and intimidating, looked like they wanted to stand out from each other, each one seeming to gaze down at the hassle and bustle at their feet. I could also count more hotdog stands than I could the number of Forks' business franchises. I guess New Yorkers just love hotdogs.

Seeing all these, I wondered why the world got itself into a big hurry whilst I'm not looking. And now I need to catch up with it.

After about thirty minutes of traffic and travel, my hired cab finally skidded to a stop in front of tall rows of a dingy apartment building.

"That would be one-twenty, miss."

"O-one twenty?"

"This is an airport taxi, miss. I already gave it to you cheap."

I dug inside my shoulder bag for my purse and reluctantly pulled out one hundred and twenty bucks to hand to the driver. I suddenly wished I was still wearing my habit so I would be treated right, feeling that I was somehow taken advantage of.

As I got out, I immediately chastised my thoughts and asked God a quick prayer of forgiveness. But still, I'm now short of one-twenty which, back at the orphanage, could have helped the children buy more clothes than they usually can spend. Sighing, I took out my luggage of meager belongings from the cab's trunk to cart inside the building.

After I knocked at the door, a tall and petite old lady opened it for me. Though probably at age seventy, the landlady still looked quite strong.

"Bella Swan?" Her mouth seemed set for a permanent scowl with her all-glaring eyes.

I tried to smile as I answered. "Yes. You must be Mrs. Cope."

"_Miss_ Cope," she sneered. "Follow me."

I scanned the small receiving area situated not too far from the elevator doors. The place looked old but well-kept. It doesn't scream anything modern, different from all that I've seen from the city thus far, and for that I was thankful. I feel like the place wouldn't alienate me much from where I stay at Forks.

"Even though I'm your landlady, you can't always come to me for help when you want to. I can't fix your sink if it gets clogged with the junk you throw in it." She pressed the button on the elevator and didn't break her speech even when we got inside. "I can't find a stupid plumber to help you flash that God-damned toilet of yours." I cringed from her loose use of the Lord's name. She didn't even notice my reaction as she punched the seventh floor – the highest floor for the building. "If you want fancy things, move out of my building at once because I give it to you cheap as it is. You can find a lot of fancy things in New York but not a one thousand five hundred bucks fancy apartment. And if you miss even a day of rent, I'll kick you out before you could even say 'extension'. Any questions?"

She glared at me and I got the feeling her question was rhetorical. I shook my head.

"Good. I live down below and I collect your rent every fifteenth of the month. Here's your key."

She handed me my key right after we stepped out from the elevator to the seventh floor.

"You're at room 7C, down the hall." She pointed at the rightmost room.

"Thank you Miss Cope. May God Bless you."

She cleared her throat, unease with well-wishers.

"Yeah. Well, that's it."

As she came back to the elevator, I smiled at her. Her mouth frowned more and she seemed unable to look me in the eyes.

After the elevator doors closed between us, I went to pull my luggage and walk towards my room. As I entered the key to the doorknob, I noticed in my peripheral vision my neighbor on 7C about to enter his room as well. I turned to my left to greet him but just as fast, he was gone. I wondered if I was only seeing things. After all, I heard no noise.

I shrugged and finally clicked the doorknob open.

The next day, I settled to tour New York by foot. I went to see the infamous Statue of Liberty, marveled at the tall and pristine Empire State building, the nearby park, and passed by the stalls of different businesses, most of them selling clothes. It was one of the things we couldn't indulge at the church – the beautiful clothes. And so I was curious to know how I would look like in one.

I went inside one shop and was frowned upon by the sales lady.

"Is there anything I can help you, miss?"

"Yes. I was just wondering how much these dresses usually cost." I gestured to the beautifully displayed furs and coats and laces. I especially was fond of the pure white dress.

"Nothing you can afford." One of her brows rose.

"Oh, uhm, I see…" I was so embarrassed that I was sure my face was all shades of red.

"How much is the dress?"

I jumped at the person who spoke beside me. I turned to see a man about two or three years older than me. He wears a fancy-looking button-down shirt, and even fancier coat. His black shoes were polished to the tip.

"Oh, uhm, sir, I didn't know she was with you. It's for hundred thousand dollars."

Not believing my ears about the price, I whipped my head to said dress, trying to understand what made it so expensive. However, the stranger beside me only smiled and pulled out his wallet, showing the sales lady a card.

"See this?"

"A black card sir."

"Yes. And you know what that means?"

"Most definitely, sir. It means no credit limit."

"Yes, well, since I heard you spoke so harshly to my girlfriend here, I think you just lost a valued customer. Have a good day."

He placed an arm around me, smiled to the shocked sales lady, and heralded me towards the exit. I glanced at the sales lady to see her flushing hard.

Once outside, he removed his embrace of me.

"Thank you sir. That was really kind of you to do, but you don't need to embarrass her like that. She was right, after all. I really can't afford the dress." I couldn't even begin to imagine how guilty I'd feel wearing a hundred thousand dollar dress while a lot from the Third World country suffers from famine, much less find a hundred thousand dollars. In my short stay, my opinion of New York already gears towards all things overpriced.

"Still, that doesn't entitle her to be bitchy towards you. I assume you're new here?"

"Yes. I'm from Forks, originally."

"What place?" He doesn't seem to register the place.

"Forks. Washington. I was…" I was about to say a novice nun, but remembering that I should keep my real status as secret while I'm here, I immediately deterred my words. "I was only looking at new clothes."

He clicked his tongue twice. "You have to be more careful around here. There are a lot of people who will deceive you if you aren't, and more people who would do you harm. The city life is very different, especially here in New York."

"I noticed."

He briefly looked at his wrist watch. "Well, I have to get going. I have a meeting in less than half an hour."

I smiled at his kindness. "Thank you, Mister…?"

"Jacob Black. You are?"

"Bella. Bella Swan."

He pulled out something from his coat pocket and this time, it looked like a different kind of card. "Well, Bella-Bella Swan, here's my card if you need any help touring the city. This here," he pointed at the upper number, "is my office number, but below, and what the others usually ignore, is my private number. Just call this second here, alright?"

He handed his card to me as I said my "thanks."

"Now, you're welcome. I'll see you – or hear from you – soon."

He flashed me a bright smile with his all white, perfect teeth.

"Yes. Bye."

He nodded infinitesimally before walking a few steps towards his waiting car. His driver opened his door for him, and then went inside the driver's seat to maneuver the car.

Once gone, I looked down at his card at my hands to read:

_Mr. Jacob Black_

_CEO – Black Enterprises, Inc._

In my three weeks stay, I still couldn't claim that I know New York. Everything is baffling; a lot of things are simple but complicated. I once went to a public ladies room and felt all sorts of stupid when I jumped at the automatic flush. I felt even dumber when I couldn't wash my hands on the faucet, and then another woman went to the next faucet and simply placed her hands below it, and then the water gushed out. Even the trash bin's mouth automatically opens.

It's like the machines try to cater to the people's fast pace.

The only consolation I have from feeling out of place is my discovery of a small church not too far from my apartment's location. I already met with the kind priest, father Banner. Thus far, he, and only the man I briefly met on my second day, Mr. Black, seemed to wear the kind expressions on their faces. Father Banner welcomed me to his church, delighted to learn that I am a novice nun out on a mission. He wished me well on my journey, and I was glad that I could do my confessions at St. John's cathedral every week. There is always something sacred and uplifting in having to bare my confession weekly, and having a church nearby to pray when I needed to. Just being inside Cathedrals makes me feel that I'm closer to God than anywhere else.

After almost a month in my stay in New York, I got a call from Mother Superior, telling me to proceed with my mission. There are a lot of spiritual needs for people from prison and a priest conducts ceremonies and bible studies during Sundays. But since most of the prisoners in the station I will be assigned to have life sentence crimes, they need things to do during their stay. And so, I am to see, together with the proclaimed nuns, voluntary works where these prisoners would help in the community. Not that I am to truly head the programs – since that responsibility is bigger than what I am capable of yet – but I will assist Mother Elizabeth, and her congregation, with everything she needs me of. These activities, from planning to the last detail, would consume my Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays.

To help pay my rent and bills, I asked Mother Superior to give me permission to work during Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays, since I am free those days. Though she didn't approve at first – saying I have no need to do so since all my expenses are to be paid by the church – I explained to her that the money for my expenses should instead be given to our church, impressing to her the scarcity of our funds in running our orphanage. Seeing my point, she reluctantly agreed but told me the church will still give at least half of what I should originally receive each month. I didn't have any other choice but to agree, secretly planning to save the money so that when I return, they would still be given to our church. I asked God a simple prayer of forgiveness for my white lie. It didn't make me feel guilty that much since I know my intensions are good.

The next day, I applied as a crew at a café called Starbucks. Since they need immediate hiring, they accepted me right away, and even made do for my three-days-a-week work. I thanked God for giving me so much blessing, and planned to give as offertory whatever will remain of my first earning to St. John's on Sunday.

To prepare myself for my hectic schedule for the next days, I cleaned my apartment thoroughly, polishing and sweeping all the dirt that I could. Next, I did my laundry, not knowing when I'd be able to do it again. Finally, I made myself a week's worth of food to bring to work so that I wouldn't have to buy outside and spend unnecessarily. It was with great joy when I finally was able to take a bath at almost eight in the evening to relax my tired muscles. And since my apartment is cheap, as quoted by the landlady, and have all the dysfunction, I have had to boil tap water in the kettle to mix with my small bath tub because my water heater runs out during the evening. Not to mention the sink or the creaking bed… But still, I thanked God that I have a roof on my head while the other children have had to endure the cold air at night.

I was about to pray before eating my meal when I heard my neighbor's door opening. Since the first day that I thought I saw him outside my apartment, I've never once met him, much less hear any noise from the next door. I've always thought that what I saw that day was just a product of my imagination.

Planning to invite him over for supper, I went out of my apartment to walk towards his door. The two other rooms on the building's seventh floor were both vacant, and so he is the only neighbor I have.

Once I got to his door, I knocked twice. I got no answer save for silence.

I knocked again, this time calling out "Hello? Anybody here?"

I still didn't receive an answer so I spoke again. "I'm Bella. I'm your neighbor, and I'm just wondering if you want supper." Feeling silly for offering him boldly without even meeting him yet, I added "I'm just-I've never met you before, and I just want to know you a little… Hello?"

Still, no answer from him. Resolving that I probably am just imagining things again, I turned to leave. But then, I heard a groan from inside his room. It was quiet, but I couldn't be mistaken that it was a groan of pain.

"Hello? Are you alright?"

I heard another groan, so I decided to try to open his door. It didn't surprise me that much that the door isn't locked.

I hurried inside his room and was greeted by darkness. Fumbling for the switch, I heard another cry from him. This time, it was a cry for help.

"Wait, I'm just looking for your switch."

When I finally punched the switch to 'on', I turned towards him. It didn't surprise me to find my neighbor in such a state – his plea of help indicated as much – but what did surprise me is his face, for never in my life have I seen a most good-looking creation God ever made before.

He cried out in another agony, but this time, he was able to speak clearly.

"Help me, B-Bella."

And then he passed out.

* * *

**DISCLAIMER:** I've never been to New York. Educate me.

Twilight is Stephanie Meyer's, but you already know that.

Also, I based one line there from Shawshank Redemption's Brookes' line: "The world got itself into a big damn hurry," minus the cursing.

Lastly, I don't think I'll write from anyone's POV aside from Bella's for now. I'm not really sure if I'll change it anytime soon.

Thank you for your time.


	3. Chapter 3: The Good Samaritan

**09-28-14 - Important Update**

Currently changing the title: "I'm in Love with a Murderer" to "The Revelations of an Innocent Mind". Hope there will be no confusions. Thanks!

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 3: THE GOOD SAMARITAN**

"Help me, B-Bella."

I was astonished that in his bemused state of mind, he could still remember the name I called out from his door. A bead of sweat was permeating his skin, his mouth was scowling from pain, and between his closed eyes was a pucker from the pain he was suffering from. But still, these circumstances were not able to hide how striking his face was.

I was finally alerted when another groan escaped from his lips. And as I took a hasty step towards him, I briefly panicked when he passed out.

"Oh my, Mister, wake up!"

I stumbled forward towards his body lying on the floor. He was clutching his chest tightly, but I could still see and smell the blood continuously gushing from his wound.

Knowing that any second I waste would be fatal for his life, I immediately searched the room for a phone. Once I got a hold of it in his night-stand, I quickly dialled 9-1-1, my fingers shaking a little from what I've just witnessed._ Calm down, Bella. This man's life depends on you, _I internally chanted just as the standard question from a female agent greeted me.

_"9-1-1. State your emergency."_

"Hi. This is Bella. My neighbor is bleeding all over his chest. I think he got stabbed or something. He just passed out."

_"Where are you located, Bella?"_

"I'm in Manhattan, New York. My apartment's address is…"

"No…" I suddenly heard my neighbor groaned. It seemed like he gained consciousness.

"Hold on," I told the agent, and then covered the receiver of the phone. "I'm just calling 9-1-1 right now. Stay conscious. I'll bring you to the hospital in no time." My neighbor groaned again, and with a weak voice pleaded "No hosp-i-tal…"

"But you're bleeding! You need to go to the hospital."

I settled to put the phone into my ears again when the man stretched his arms to try to take the phone away. It looked like he was using all his strength just to stop me, but with his physical state, he could not reach even a few inches near me.

"Mister, if you won't go to the hospital, how will I be able to help you?"

He looked me right in the eyes – his were unsteady from his state – and were revealed to me a shocking green.

"Get-t o-out."

I vehemently shook my head.

"I won't leave you. You need me. You need help."

"N-no h-hospi-tal…"

I saw that if I truly wanted to help this man, I could do nothing but to heed his request, or else he wouldn't let me. Gritting my teeth in frustration, I hang up the phone.

"Alright. No hospitals. But you listen to me very well," I started in a commanding voice. His closed eyes opened a small gap to look at me. "You wouldn't die on me, you understand? You wouldn't die on me. You wouldn't pass out. Do something, bite your tongue if you should, but you wouldn't pass out. I'll just get my medical kit. I'll come back."

He nodded infinitesimally before I rushed out to go back to my room. Once there, I hurriedly searched for my medical kit in my chest drawer, and immediately came back to his room. The moment I entered his apartment, his eyes followed me.

I knew I needed to do something about his continuous bleeding, and so, grabbing his blanket – not having any other nearby piece of fabric to grab – I extricated his hold of his chest to press half of the blanket to his wound. He groaned in pain, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth.

"I need to get your bleeding under control. Once your wound stopped bleeding, we could assess how to clean your wound. Right now, do your best not to pass out on me, you understand?"

Again, he gave a short nod – his breathing jagged from the pain he's suffering. I figured I needed to distract him.

"What's your name?"

He didn't answer save for a groan. Pressing firmer on his chest, I tried to engage my agonized patient into any form of conversation so he wouldn't pass out again.

"Let me guess: Ronald?"

He shook his head a little. I was briefly relieved that he could at least understand me.

"You don't look like a Ronald either. Michael? David?"

He shook his head again. I couldn't help but to think the reason I chose the names David and Michael is because he looks a bit like Michael Angelo's statue of David situated on the convent I grew up in.

"Well then, Frank? Seth? Gerald? Raymond? John…?" I listed off ten more names but nothing even seems to remotely hit the mark.

"You really have a tricky name then." I pressed more on his chest – his blood soaking the blanket a lot. He groaned again, but his breathing seemed to at least even out.

"Let's see, Em… Edmund?" He grunted. "Is it Edmund?" He shook his head. "Close enough?" He nodded curtly. "Great! I'm close then. Let's see, grandpa names, Edmund… Ezekiel… Elijah… Ethan… Edward…" He exhaled loudly and nodded curtly. "Edward? Is it Edward?" I clarified. He nodded again. "Oh! Edward! Wonderful!

"Well, Edward, it's nice to meet you. I'm Bella. Isabella Marie Swan." His hazy eyes peaked a little to my face.

A minute or two passed before I decided the wound isn't bleeding as much. I sighed in relief.

I stood up then, and immediately, Edward opened his eyes again to look at me.

"I'll get a basin," I explained. "I need to clean the blood to see how deep your wound is. Stay awake," I demanded, hurrying to his sink. I filled up a pitcher – the only thing deep enough to fill in water that I found – and took the nearby wash-cloth. I approached him right away to lift his shirt up.

At first, he wouldn't remove his clutch on his chest, but after I said "now, Edward, do not be a baby. Let me clean that wound" to him, using a parental tone I hadn't used before, he finally let me take care of him.

I lifted his shirt, wiping his skin in the process. After the wound is clean enough, I assessed that it's deep but at least, small. I said a small prayer:

_"Lord God, please help this man to stay alive. I would do all in my power to save him, but it is always Your will to give and take away life. I pray, oh Lord, that it isn't his time yet…"_

"Wh-a-t are y-you d-doing…?"

I opened my eyes to Edward's sweaty face. He was looking at me with questioning eyes. I noticed that for the first time his eyes, though deep shades of melting emeralds, have a hardness in them – an edge to the way he looks at me – which I couldn't place.

"Praying," I explained, "So that you will stay alive. Have you never prayed?"

He looked up to the roof, away from me.

"I d-don't b-believe a-anymore..."

Instantaneously, I understood the type of man Edward is – an anguished soul, who's lost all trust and warmth to God. His physical wound is much different than his wound within. Inside, it's deeper.

I smiled kindly to him when he looked back at me. "Well then, I do. And if you wouldn't pray for yourself, I would pray for you. See how He gives us miracles? If I didn't come here when I heard your door opening, who knew what would have happened to you? You could have died. But I am here now, and I _won't let you die_," I stressed the words. He was looking at me with a mixture of wonder and scepticism. "And now, in just a few minutes, you could already talk. That is a miracle. You might have chosen not to believe, but I believe in Him. And because I do, I would not lose my belief in you to also accept Him, even if it would take you a long time to do so."

I continued to clean his wound for a few silent minutes after that, using only water so that the wound would be clean enough before I put any disinfectant. Just as I was about to stand up to change the water from his pitcher, he spoke again.

Looking up at him, I heard him whisper "But I lost all hope."

And the utter coldness on his eyes was unmistakable.

Hope could be both an enemy and a friend. In times of great peril, hope is the only thing that keeps a human sane. But then again, too much hope could crush a person if not met. And I rode with this hope in the next twelve hours since I met Edward.

Because of his feeble state, I settled to stay with him even after his protest. He did groan some words along the lines of "get out" and "I don't need you", but since he can't move, there is nothing he could do about me staying.

The hardest part of cleaning his injury is when I disinfected it. Knowing that I have nothing remotely close to what the doctors use to thoroughly clean the wound, and a chemical of some sort to assure its healing, I have had to settle for a bottle of liquor that I found in his liquor cabinet. The moment I gushed it to his wound, tremors shook his body from the pain he felt. I tried to stay strong for him but his cries of agony did get me. After I made sure that I washed the wound thoroughly, I settled to put hydrogen peroxide on it before I wrapped his whole chest with bandage, assisting him in the process to be a bit erect. I let him sleep after.

Once or twice, Edward woke up with seizures. I have had to calm him down with a warm soaked cloth. And the entire time he was asleep, I took his nearby couch to get a little rest myself, easily alerted by his every movement.

I did bring my supper in his room and fed him. At first, he wouldn't want to, but after I impressed to him that if he would so much as deny my request I would call the ambulance to bring him to the hospital, he relented. And from twelve to one, all I did was pray the entire rosary for him, knowing that even if I did my best, I could not be sure yet that he is safe because anytime soon, he could suffer fever from the wound's infection and get worse. And just as I feared, at around four in the morning, he was chilling from a hundred and four Fahrenheit fever.

I made him ingest antibiotic. I also constantly rubbed his whole body with cloth soaked from a mixture of warm water and alcohol, so that his temperature would stabilize, continuously chanting a prayer in my head.

At around eight in the morning, with both of us having little sleep, my prayers were finally answered with his temperature dropping to ninety-nine point sixty-eight Fahrenheit. I said a small prayer to thank God. When I opened my eyes, Edward was looking at me.

"You need to rest," I smiled. "Your temperature has stabilized. I'll be here the whole time, so, don't worry."

It took him a solid minute before he finally voiced out his question.

"Why?"

I understood immediately what he truly meant, and that is why I was helping him.

Smiling, I said, "Well, for one, I am a Christian, and good Christians help their neighbors, especially in times of great need. Also, I reckon anyone would do the same as I did if I was the one in such a state."

It took him a moment to digest what I've said before he answered.

"Not all."

"I don't believe that."

He shook his head. "I won't."

I, in turn, shook my head. "You would. I know that you would. You're just saying that now, but if you're faced with the same situation, you're response will almost be instinctual."

"What made you say that?"

I stared him right at his hard and doubtful eyes. Even in his current state, his beautiful face was not amiss to me.

"Because I know you're good," I say with conviction. Doubt flooded his eyes more.

He stared at me for a solid minute, neither of us breaking each other's gaze. Finally, he looked up to the ceiling to whisper, away from my stare, "You don't know me."

I couldn't say more after that, afraid that he would find me irritating if I impress unto him my solid belief of him being good. Because even if I see hardness in his eyes, I also can see his soul, indicated by a little tenderness here and there. And it made me certain that he is good.

I yawned – my tired state finally catching up to me.

"You should go back to your room."

I shook my head. "I'll just be brief. I need to make us a breakfast, and then I'll come back so that we both could eat. You still need assistance."

"I don't need any more of your help."

His words made me laugh.

"Tell that to yourself. See if even you can believe that."

I stood up then, yawning again. "I'll come back in about twenty minutes. And then you'll never get rid of me."

For a week, that is what I did. I helped him, fed him, and stayed at his room – in his couch – to sleep. Every movement, every groan from him, alerts me. He doesn't say much, and thinking that if I were also in such a state I wouldn't want any noise, I also hardly talk to him. He never once said 'thank you', and I didn't expect him to. I don't need it. My helping him is of my own will.

But there was one instance when he did.

The first time he needed to go to the toilet, he tried to sit without my help. I was chopping some onions then in his kitchen, figuring I can always be present for him if I cook there. I didn't notice him at first, but when he uttered an explicit curse, I was instantly on his side.

"What are you doing?" I asked in an alarmed voice.

He didn't answer me; only struggling to sit.

"You'll bleed if you continue to do that. Here, let me help you."

I placed his left arm around my shoulder, careful not to touch his wound. He hissed and gritted his teeth as I helped him stand.

"Where to?" I asked. He didn't answer, only gritting his teeth more. By then I realized he was probably embarrassed because I'm a woman and he can't tell me that he needs to go to the toilet.

"Alright. I think I know where. You don't need to tell me."

I helped him walk slowly towards the toilet. Once there, I waited outside its door as he helped himself, leaning on the walls. When I heard the flush of the toilet, I knew that he was finished. Not wanting to embarrass him further, I just waited outside, and once he was out, I assisted him back to his bed. After that, I went back to the kitchen to continue preparing our meal.

"Bella," I heard him say in a quiet voice. I walked swiftly towards him, thinking that there was something he needs me of again.

"Yes?"

He continuously gritted his teeth, seeming to find it hard to say what he wanted to. I waited patiently, thinking that whatever it is, it's probably something he was not accustomed to saying.

"Just… t-thank…" He stopped then, breathing heavily. I smiled.

"You don't need to thank me if you have trouble saying it. It's always the thought of you being thankful that counts." He looked at me then, for once the hardness in his eyes replaced with pure gratitude. I almost told him that thanking me through his eyes is more sincere than whatever words he might say to me, but decided against it. "You don't need to say anything that's hard for you. I won't even ask you how you got stabbed. Because though it made me very curious, I knew it's probably something you don't want to easily share to me – practically a stranger. You don't have to do or say anything to me. Just let me take care of you."

With that, I left him to go back to the kitchen. Probably five or ten minutes have passed before I heard him again.

"Thank you," he said in a more quiet voice. I stopped for a beat – my heart beating loudly and experiencing an emotion I have no name of but is close to melting – before I continued my work without any word and with a permanent smile on my face.

Edward could at least stand and walk without my help on Sunday. Because of that, I decided to finally check on his wound. Seeing that it's on its way to healing, I breathed a sigh of relief, and said my thanks to God.

"Edward, listen, tomorrow I have work. I'm working for a whole week until Saturday. I think you could be left alone for a few hours, seeing that you're healing fast. But don't forget to ingest your medicine every after-four hours, especially the pain killer, alright? I'll be back at seven in the evening. I'll still make your breakfast and I'll leave a good amount for your lunch, so you don't have to worry about your food. I'll also leave your medicines here," I gestured to his night stand "and a glass of water, so you would have easy access to them. Also, I'll be gone for an hour and a half later at three because I'll attend the mass at St. John's, but I'll come right back."

The only response that I got was his nod.

However, something was amiss in the way he stared at me. I tried to ignore the nagging feeling, but it was all I could think of while I was re-bandaging his chest. It didn't leave me even after hours.

At around four, after the mass, I made way for my confession. Once safely covered in the confines of the confessional, and with the holed window separating me from the priest, I started with the opening "Forgive me, father, for I have sinned. It has been a week since my confession."

"Tell me your sins," the priest retorted.

"I lied to my Mother Superior about the money they monthly send me. I told her that I would use them, but I am actually planning to save them so that when I get back to our orphanage, I could give it to them.

"I also got frustrated once with the traffic.

"Lastly, I am helping a neighbor in need even though he doesn't want me to."

"Lady," told the father, "the only sin I can hear from you is the lying you have committed to your Mother Superior. Aside from that, the two you've mentioned are just products of you being a human. I am not trying to condone lying, but hearing your intent behind it I think makes it acceptable to God. You are forgiven of your sins."

However, I was still unsetteled.

"Father, I need guidance on one thing," I retorted, not thoroughly comforted that I truly did not commit grave sins. There was still something heavy upon my shoulders, and this is one thing I truly wanted guidance from. "This man that I said I was helping, father, he was, I think, he was stabbed. And I'm helping him even though I don't know how he got his injury. Am I doing right not to ask him?"

"Lady, remember the parable about the good Samaritan?"

"Yes, father. It's about a man who was stripped off his clothes by the robbers, was beaten, and was inches away from death. A priest passed by but avoided him. So did the Levite. But a Samaritan helped him, poured oil and wine on his wound, carried him on his donkey, and even let him stay at an inn."

"And which of them was a neighbor to the man?"

"The Samaritan," I answered.

"Did he question the man why he was beaten to death?"

"No."

"Well, there's your answer." And only then did I finally felt relieved.

We said a prayer together after that, then the priest made me pray three Hail Marys, one Our Father, and one Glory Be.

As I went back to my apartment building, I felt much better and even a bit excited to see my patient, and so I directly walked towards his room. I didn't even knock: I just let myself in to his room. Once inside, I announced my arrival.

"Edward, I'm here. I brought you some food outside. I passed by this chicken store and thought a warm soup with chicken will do you good…" I began to happily say, but upon looking at his empty bed, I stopped on my tracks, confused. Thinking he's probably just inside the toilet, I went to sit at my couch.

However, as I sat on the couch, I noticed something on his nightstand. Upon focusing on it, I realized it was a piece of paper.

A cold feeling of dread enveloped my chest.

Quickly, I rose up to dispel the feeling, praying that I wasn't right. But upon lifting the paper, more dread filled me.

Because there I read in a hasty but still elegant script:

_"Bella,_

_I have to go. Believe me, I'm thankful for what you've done, but you don't really know who I am. And as a favor for saving me, I am doing you good by leaving._

_For your own sake, do not speak of me to anyone. Lie, if you should. This is to keep you safe._

_Burn this after, and any trace that you stayed in my room. This is not a request, but a command._

_Only you, out of the hundreds, have truly known my name."_

And I realized why he looked at me that way when I was re-bandaging him. It was Edward's way of saying goodbye.


	4. Chapter 4: The Shades of Fear

**09-28-14 - Important Update**

Currently changing the title: "I'm in Love with a Murderer" to "The Revelations of an Innocent Mind". Hope there will be no confusions. Thanks!

* * *

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 4: THE SHADES OF FEAR**

All the events of the previous day came crushing back to me as the sun greeted me in the morning. I sat up from my bed to proceed with my day, feeling a gaping hole just right on my chest. For a moment, I contemplated dismissing Edward's departure as just something of my own mind's doing, expecting that any second I'll hear him groaning from another room. However, the letter safely tucked between my lamp-shade's foot and the night-stand where it was placed upon served as a proof that he was truly gone. And there was nothing that I could do about it.

I had a typical first day of work: I mixed orders of coffee, spilled an entire grande cup, and got scolded by my supervisor. It wasn't rolling well, to say the least. And the thought of my neighbor kept haunting me the entire shift.

I kept wondering how he is, where did he go, was he eating his meal three times a day, and what did he mean when he wrote he was doing me good by leaving. I kept seeing him in the faces of our customers, half-expecting him to suddenly show up in front of me. I once mistook a guy with reddish-brown hair as him. I was so distracted and on-the-edge the entire day that even I got frustrated about myself. My co-employee, Jessica, comforted me a little by saying that the first day of work is always the hardest, and will get better as the days progress. But still, I felt bad about doing so poorly.

Because of my bad first day, I set a goal to get better the next. I arrived the earliest the next morning and tried to memorize all the orders. I brought a notebook and a pen to write down all the flavors of the coffee, and vowed to myself that I will memorize the processes and ingredients, thinking that I have to have a routine with my day so that I would commit fewer errors. I tried to be as cheery as possible, greeting all the customers with a smile. And most of all, I tried put at the back of my mind all my worries about my former neighbor, hoping that I could get my head on my tasks.

At the end of my second day, my supervisor seemed at least satisfied with me. He even patted me on the back, telling me to keep my attitude up. And as he did this, I noticed Jessica furtively eyeing him as she wipes the table near the door. I settled to approach her.

"Something wrong?"

She was taken aback by my question, jumping a little on the process.

"Wh-what?"

"Why do you keep staring at Mr. Mike?"

She blushed a little, and looked down at the table she was cleaning, trying to avoid my eyes.

"What are you saying? I'm not staring at him."

"Come on, Jessica. I saw you. It was quite obvious, actually."

She looked at me then for three solid seconds. Then suddenly, she grabbed my arms, dragging me towards the ladies' room. I didn't even had a chance to protest.

Once there, she gripped both my arms, startling me with her impulsiveness.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone!"

Looking around the room, she eyed the ladies' room door, and then quickly closed it. She was instantly on my side after that.

"Bella, Mike is just _so_ hot."

"Alright?" I retorted, unsure what to react.

"I mean, have you seen the way he smiles with his dimples? I kind of am crushing on him. I kept waiting for him to ask me out, but he never does, and I never say anything because he probably doesn't like me like that, because he's our supervisor, but do you think I should say something?"

I blinked thrice, trying to grasp what she has just said with how fast she said it.

"Err, why not?"

She squealed. "What? Are you crazy? I can't tell him! I'm just a crew here."

Understanding her apprehensions, this made me question some things. Was it really this hard to say what's on your heart? Was it this frightening that even bold Jessica cannot easily say that she likes Mike?

"Jessica," I started, placing a calming hand on her shoulder, "I think you need to tell him how you feel. Would you rather never tell him, and then watch him go with another girl?"

She looked like she would cry. "But that would be super awkward if he doesn't like me back."

"How old are you again?"

"Twenty. Why?"

"Well then, I think you're old enough to be mature about this."

She stared at me for a long time, continuously blinking. And then, she suddenly hugged me as she squealed. I was more than surprised by her energy – I've never met someone as spastic as she was.

"I'll try, Bella. I hope he likes me back!"

And with that, she quickly ran outside, leaving me alone at the ladies' room, a bit confused on what has just happened.

When I went back to the shop, I saw Jessica talking to Mike inside his small office. A smile broke on my face. But then, just as I glanced outside the shop, a mop of tousled reddish brown hair caught my eye. I breathlessly stared. As a second passed, it was gone. Instinctually, I ran outside the café, thinking it was him. All my hopes gearing that it was Edward.

And then I bumped onto someone.

"Ooufgh," the man uttered as I knocked the air out of him. He steadied me by clutching onto my arms so that I wouldn't fall.

"I'm sorry, but I need to catch someone…" I hastily said, trying to look at a gap above his shoulder for my former neighbor.

"Bella?" The man said. Him telling my name made me finally look at him. And then a flick of recognition hit me.

"Mr. Black!" I gushed.

"What a coincidence! Bumping into you again…"

"It's really nice to see you again, but I need to catch up with someone."

With that, I extricated his hold of me.

I ran to cross the street, hoping to catch up Edward. I ran a few more blocks, trying to look everywhere for him. However, it seemed like he was nowhere in sight, and I could not even be sure that it was truly him that I saw. With all the frustrations and disappointments in my chest, I stopped running, bending forward, catching up my breath, and leaning my hands on my thighs.

Faraway, Mr. Black seemed to catch up with me. "Miss Swan!"

I waited for him to reach me as I steadied my breathing. Upon reaching me, he said "I assume you didn't catch that someone?"

I shook my head in a 'no', frowning. He scratched his head.

"Well, wow, what do I say? Long-time no see?"

I tried to smile, but even it seemed fake to me. He cleared his throat.

"So, uh, I was wondering why you didn't call."

"Oh." Taken aback, it took me few seconds to formulate a proper response. "Uhm, I didn't need help touring the city," I finally came up with.

He chuckled a bit.

"I gave you my number not just to help you tour the city, Miss Swan."

Confused, I asked "What do you mean?"

"Well, I was wondering if you want to go out or something. Maybe we could grab some drink later?"

Oh.

"I…"

"But clearly, my timing is off."

I instantly shook my head. "No, you don't understand Mr. Black. I-I don't drink."

A look of shock crossed his features.

"Never?"

I shook my head with a smile. "No."

"Oh. My bad." He seemed to be blushing a bit. "But you're at least of legal age, right?"

I chuckled. "I'm twenty-three."

"Great. Uhm, maybe next time… how about a dinner, you know? So that we could talk about… stuff."

It's as if I could almost hear what he was thinking. With the unsure look on his face, it was like he was mentally scolding himself.

"A dinner sounds great," I retorted to placate him. He immediately gave me a huge smile.

"Great! Well, it's a date then…" The second the words were out of his mouth, his expression changed to one of dread, seeming to have said something he didn't plan to. "That is, I mean, if you want it to be a date…" he tried to say differently.

I took both of his hands to calm him a bit. And somehow, it worked. He kept a steady gaze on our entwined hands as his features returned to normal.

"Mr. Black, what happened to you?" Looking at me with confusion, I clarified. "You were so confident when I first met you. What's wrong?"

With a solemn look, he replied "Sorry. I just thought I'd lose my chance with you if I didn't ask you right away. I'm just accustomed to getting what I want."

When he said those words, all the apprehensions, all his self-doubt, were gone. Instead, they were replaced with a confidence that were hard to miss on his eyes. And then I focused on his eyes – pitch black – looking at me with a certain kind of intensity. I understood quickly the graveness of what he just revealed to me. This is a man who can and _will_ get whatever he wants. There is a lot more to him than meets the eye.

"It's not hard to offer my friendship Mr. Black," I said, hoping that he will get what I was trying to convey.

"So, it's a friendship dinner then."

I nodded. "I don't date, so yes, it's a friendship dinner."

He nodded solemnly – breathing heavily as he does.

"Well, I can wait. I told you – I am accustomed to getting what I want."

I chuckled a bit, finding his response funny.

"You've just met me. You don't know if you really want to date me." _And more than that, I am training as a nun._

But then, he looked at me with so much intensity that my smile was immediately wiped out off my face. He turned my hands so that he was the one holding me, and somehow, the innocent gesture that I did earlier to calm him down suddenly turned into a tension-filled one.

"Miss Swan, you clearly don't understand. I might have stammered on my words earlier, I might have seemed stupid, but you see, I have a gift – an eye, if you must – for things that I like. Things that I want. And when I settle my eyes on one, I would do all that it takes to get my hands on it, whatever it takes. I knew the moment I met you, I wanted you. And I would stop at nothing to have you."

His look, where before carefree, suddenly turned electric, possessive, domineering. It made my heart beat loudly, as if trying to warn me about him. I didn't know where the stammering and funny man went, but I knew that it wasn't him anymore. This is a different side of Mr. Black that in our short time of knowing each other, I already had a glimpse upon.

"Have a good day Miss Swan."

And there he left me on the sidewalk, confused and, quite frankly, a bit frightened of him. And suddenly I wondered if our meeting was really a mere coincidence, or if he had a hand in it.

I didn't call Mr. Black for the next days. There was something in my mind, in my gut, that kept me from calling him. Maybe it was the fear I experienced when I met him again. And so I carried on with my life, trying to forget the two conflicting men that kept invading my thoughts.

The next day when I went to work, Jessica seemed to be in a foul mood. She didn't talk to me, and didn't respond when I greeted her. I figured the talk with Mike didn't go well. I didn't try to ask her about it, and settled to just focusing on my job.

This same focus is what I hoped to achieve on Thursday when I tried to lose myself with my mission with the prisoners. Meeting Mother Elizabeth and her congregation reminded me of why I truly went to New York. They were kind to me, and taught me a lot of things I should prepare for before I will be proclaimed as nun. But try as I might, I still couldn't put my whole head in the tasks ahead of me.

The first project we planned was to have the prisoners help in our feeding program. They were assigned tasks to cook food, place them on containers, and give them to the street people. It took a whole day for us to plan everything. I was assigned to see that all prisoners were performing, and not taking for granted their chance to help the community.

And so the next day, with everything set, we put out stands in one of the few secluded streets of New York. The said place seemed familiar with the beggars because in less than an hour, it was already crowded with them.

As I helped on disseminating instructions to the prisoners, I saw one with the number 50664 sitting at the faraway benches. His isolation seemed deliberate, as though he doesn't bond well with the others. I approached him with a warm smile.

"Hello, Mister. I think you have to help with our task, so that we could also help all these people in need."

He smirked at me with sarcasm.

"What'st for me?" I traced a thick southern drawl in the way he speaks. He looked fifty – with greyish hair, pitch black eyes, scraggly face, and three missing teeth.

I tried to smile more. "Well, for one, it is at least better than doing nothing inside your cell. Also, this can help you in your parole." I sat beside him. He kept the sarcastic smirk on his face.

"Have been in jail for four years, miss. Ain't nothing good it did me. I ain't never goin' out."

"But wouldn't this – helping the others – at least give you something to feel good about yourself? It's never late to be a Christian to your neighbor, and I think you can be a good one."

He chuckled without humor.

"Good Christ'an, eh? Piece of shit, is more like it. See miss, I don't care 'bout them religion, or all the Jesus-God-damned-things you tell me. I ain't never goin' anywhere after this except hell."

I cringed upon hearing him swearing so explicitly. But even more, I felt sad that he has fallen so deep that there were no other endings he sees for himself besides going to hell.

I tried to understand him better, and so I asked "What is it that sent you here to prison?"

"Murder," he said without even blinking – the coldness in his eyes speaks volume. "I was hired killer. Been doing it for six years. Not really that good. And crappy old trick didn't work out, so I got cops smelling my fucking trail, and got me." He laughed sinisterly. "Hope I've been as quick as Masen. That boy works like a ghost. Got no cops on his trail. Always cleans after his job. Never got someone seen his face, that one. "

"Masen? What does he do? Is it the same as yours?"

"Yep, a fucking murderer, that's him. Earns millions. Boss' favorite. Even got the cops scared. Slits your throat if ya didn't see him. Fires a gun like its fucking invisible."

He came to stand as I contemplated the grimy things he just revealed to me, and intrigued about the person he just told me about.

"I'd be careful around here, Miss, if I were you. Masen's cruel. But I ain't seen anyone finer than him. Easy on the eyes, that boy. Will rob your heart and kill you at t'same time, if you're not careful. Better not cross him in the streets, if ya' know what I mean."

"But why does he do what he does? Why did he become a hired killer?"

The man only laughed.


	5. Chapter 5: All Walks of Society

**09-28-14 - Important Update**

Currently changing the title: "I'm in Love with a Murderer" to "The Revelations of an Innocent Mind". Hope there will be no confusions. Thanks!

* * *

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 5: ALL WALKS OF SOCIETY**

The succeeding days has proved to me one thing: Mr. Black is way too persistent.

I met him for the third time Saturday, the next week since we 'bumped' into each other outside my workplace, when Mother Elizabeth's congregation and I were touring the city, asking for donations around the neighborhood. Dressed in the same style of sophistication, Mr. Black came by us to donate a much too large amount of money, telling me a brief 'hi' – his smile the same when I first met him. And I question myself again: coincidence, or planned?

I didn't expect him on Sunday, but when I went back to my apartment, a bouquet of flowers greeted me at my apartment door, with a card that says "I still expect our dinner-friendship-date." I didn't have time to process how he knew where I lived. I simply assumed that it's not hard for rich people to get simple information like my address.

On Monday, I knew that nothing was ever coincidence anymore when Mr. Black came by exactly around the time I arrived at my workplace. We greeted each other briefly, and because I felt on edge around him, I excused myself telling him that I have work to do. The same smile bid me a goodbye.

And the next day, Tuesday, I realised I could not avoid him. And try as I might, he will not easily give up unless I agree on the dinner-date he was offering. Because there sat on my door's foot is a box with a ribbon, where inside the pure white dress I first glimpsed upon the first time we met was neatly folded and covered in an expensive looking paper. And there I reached my breaking point. Enough is enough.

"Mr. Black?" I opened as greeting after his phone stopped ringing.

"_Yes?"_ He says on the other line.

"Good morning. This is Bella Swan."

"_Oh! Miss Swan! You finally called! Did you like my present?"_

I tried to calm myself down – it has been such a long time since I got mad that the feeling seemed foreign to me.

"Mr. Black, why on Earth did you give me an exaggeratedly priced dress?" I tried to soften my voice but it still came out a little sharp.

"_I thought you liked that dress?"_ He sounded unsure.

"Yes, I might have, but this is just too much. You have seen me asking for donations around New York last Saturday, trying to help the less fortunate, and now I receive a dress that costs a hundred thousand dollars? How do you think I would feel wearing it?"

A few silent moments passed before he spoke again.

"_I'm sorry. I just thought you might like it… You seemed different around me lately."_

I sighed. "I'm sorry, too, for getting mad. I just feel tired."

I sat at my bed's foot as I heard Mr. Black chuckle.

"_Tired? This early in the morning?"_

I smiled. "Yeah. There was just something on my mind these past few days, and however hard I try, I can't erase it from my mind. It kept occupying my thoughts. I feel tired because of it."

"_That's not because of me, right?"_

I shook my head though he can't see me. "No. It's someone else. But I've got to be honest with you Mr. Black…"

"_Jacob,"_ he cut me. _"Call me Jacob, please."_

"Jacob," I conceded, "the things you have told me a few days ago outside the streets – I think that was Tuesday or Wednesday last week – frightened me off. I was a bit aloof around you. I'm sorry."

A few moments passed again.

"_Well, I guess that's not a good way of meeting someone, isn't it?"_

I chortled. "No."

"_But you see, Miss Swan, I am that same person you met for the first time. It's still with me. I just…" _I heard him huffed. _"Maybe we could talk in person instead?"_

Seeing no other way, I agreed with him. "Alright. Where shall we meet?"

"_This may sound like I'm forcing you to go out with me, and I know that you know that I hope that's how it is, but there's an event I need to attend to this Sunday evening. It's a charity event. For the upper-class people of society. I will be able to explain to you everything there. Please, don't think I'm trying to trap you into anything. I just genuinely wanted you to see it my way. And maybe you'll understand why I am the way I am – why I do all that it takes to get something that I want."_

I thought about it for a few brief moments, weighing my options. But remembering how he helped me for the first time, and how I see that same smile is still with him, weighed more than my fear of him. And so I answered him "Well, if it's a charity event, I guess that's alright."

"Thank you Miss Swan," he sounded relieved.

I smiled. "Call me Bella."

"_Bella," _he answered right away. _"One more thing, Bella."_

"Yes?"

"_I told you that it's for upper-class men, right?"_

"Yes."

"_Wear that dress."_

With that, he hanged up on me, leaving me in wonder again how he could sound so carefree one moment, and then bossy the next. And if I have done the right thing.

That Sunday, I received another call from Jacob, telling me that he'll send me a stylist for my hair and make-up. I tried to refuse him, telling him it's an unnecessary expenditure, and even asked him if I could return the dress to him. However, he told me that the event requires people to come styled, and also pressed unto me that the dress is mine, and I could do whatever I want with it. I settled to sell the dress after I used it once.

At around four, my stylist arrived. I've seen gay people before, interacted with them a few times, but never really spend more than an hour with them. In my religion, gay people aren't truly that accepted. But as I interact with Eric, I saw otherwise.

"Miss Swan, right?"

"Bella," I nodded, ushering him in. For a gay man, I didn't expect him to look and act refine. But he does, and even dressed exactly like a man, wearing a coat and black shoes.

"What? Your first time to see a gay?"

I blinked twice. "How did you read my mind?"

"I'm used to that look, Bella. I've received more than a handful of them when I was young. And I still receive them once in a while."

Embarrassed, I looked away from him, my face surely as red as a tomato.

"I'm sorry. I am not used to your gender. I was raised in a convent."

It was his turn to sound surprised. "You're a nun?"

"No, no, no, I'm not." I said immediately, afraid he would ask more. But he didn't, and for that I was glad. Instead, he gave me a long response that made such a strong mark on me.

"I can see how you would think I am committing a sin for being gay. You were told that way. You grew up thinking there's only men and women. But Bella, I tell you, I've struggled with myself for more than eighteen years. Imagine yourself caged for forever – could you breathe? I told myself – no, forced myself – over and over to be straight, to like girls. But I never did. And one day, I just thought I can't live like that anymore. What have I done to deserve it? All the scrutiny, judgements, accusations… As a kid, I grew up fighting with other kids who tell me I'm gay. Why? Because it's the truth. And it was hard to accept it. And they were making fun of the truth like it was a crime. And so one day, I just snapped. I don't want to hide anymore. I want to live a normal life. I want to get out of my own cage. I want to be loved, and I want to give love in return – not a forced love, but an unending love. A love where I would give my all.

"And so, Bella, I will ask you again. Do you still think I'm committing a sin?"

For a few moments, I was speechless, only gazing at his deep-blue eyes. Somehow, I understood what he meant. I could see it in his eyes – his struggles, his fears, his questions, the unfairness he received. And his eyes looked so intelligent, laden with wisdom he acquired from his experiences at such a young age.

And I knew it was right of me not to blindly accept my religion's belief.

"Everyone commits sins. And everyone is the same in the eyes of God. You are as sinful as the next man I would meet on the streets."

He gave me an unbalanced smile.

"Such a heavy topic for a stranger I just met," he said.

I chuckled. "A nice way of meeting people."

He stood and walked towards me, offering his hand. "Hi. I'm Eric Yorkie."

I took his hand. "Bella. Bella Swan."

Eric was more than surprised to learn that I have never once wear make-up in my entire life. He was as astounded to hear how many things are prohibited in the convent, like the type of music we listen to, the kind of shows we only watch, the kind of dresses we wear – mostly donated clothes – the food we eat... The list is endless. He was beyond shocked that I didn't know the supposed celebrities: some people called Brad and Pit and a Cruise; that the only movies we could watch are biblical adaptations; and that I've never known the music called 'pop'.

"Well, since you are so clueless about these things, you are not allowed to look at the mirror while I work with you," he declared after combing my hair, making me face the bed. "It will be a surprise."

I tried to be as patient as I could throughout the whole process, but I would ask him every five minutes if he's done yet. And always, he would say 'no'.

Once, he got a bit ticked off with me and blurted "Honey, beauty takes time!"

"Sorry. I just can't deal with doing nothing. I can't imagine how the other girls can bear to wait this long."

"Well, that's because they can see what's being done to them."

"Can't I please do the same? I'm dying of waiting here."

And he gave me a resolute "no".

It took the three longest hours of my life before Eric was finally finished styling me. With a triumphant tone, he then declared me "officially gorgeous."

"Now, because this is a surprise, I want you to close your eyes as I turn you to your mirror. Don't peek."

Doing as I was bid, he assisted me to walk in front of what I assumed was my full-length mirror. I was feeling a combination of emotions: scared to look at my reflection, but excited all the same. And somehow, the excitement trumps my nerves.

"There. You can now open your eyes," Eric commanded.

And with that, I did, to the surprised look of the woman before me. Because never did I imagine I would turn out as such.

Unable to form words, I gazed at the woman with the outstanding beauty, having difficulty to grasp the concept that she and I were the same. I'm not one who's accustomed to vanity or cosmetics. However, in that moment, I felt that I was indeed beautiful – a word I've never associated my name with.

My waist-length hair, where before simple threads of brown on my head, now a shimmering mahogany brown, and were slightly curled at the tips. My brown eyes seemed to pop out from my face, with my eyelashes longer than usual, and a blackish cosmetic reminiscent of smoke was placed around it. My lips red – like the strawberries, and though the upper is bigger than the lower, it made it somehow look soft and it complements my look. And my usually pale white skin seemed lively somehow, with the pure white long-sleeved dress that reaches my knees, and the intricate floral embroidery all over the upper portion complementing its flowing skirt, letting the curves of my body that I never cared for before seemed to scream attention though not a peek could be seen.

It was a perfect combination of classy feminine and strikingly alluring. I never thought I'd ever use those words to describe myself, especially the latter, but somehow they were the only means to describe her. Describe me.

And through it all, I still didn't lose my prominent features, like the wide-length of my forehead, even after the styling. Only, it served to highlight them.

Except probably my red lips.

"Now, this would complete your look."

From beside me, Eric held the straps of a pair of white shoes with a flower design to dangle in front of me. My eyes got bigger as I looked at how high the heels were. The lady in front of the mirror copied my reaction, and somehow, she still looked good with the incredulous expression.

"Eric, I have never tried walking with heels before. I can't walk with those. And though they are the most beautiful pair of shoes I've ever seen, I already feel sorry for my feet just looking at them."

"Bella," he responded, arching one of his brows, "you will wear this. You know why? That's simply because I say so." With that, he put the shoes to my unready hands, an indication that I should wear them at once.

And I couldn't contradict the look on his face.

Another unnecessary expense came to me in the form of a car – too long unlike the usual cars – sent again by Jacob. It was to fetch me for the event.

As I got inside it, I was surprised how spacious it was, and that it was carpeted. The chairs were also not in their usual rows: two of them facing each other, and the other facing the driver's seat. According to the driver, it is called a limousine.

All in all, it looked classy. And expensive. And unnecessary.

It only took half an hour for me to arrive at the venue, considering how New York always seemed to never can escape traffic. Once there, the driver opened my door for me as I readied myself to walk with the difficult shoes, and assisted me until I reached the front door. Before totally leaving me, he handed me my invitation, which I gave to the officers who assisted me to come inside.

And once inside, I finally understood Jacob's insistence on me dressing up. Because I wouldn't have fit in with the crowd if I wore my usual Sunday dresses. Because even though I felt unusually beautiful, I clearly wasn't a stand-out from these people.

I knew nothing about fashion but I was sure everybody who was anybody in the room was wearing something off of the latest trend. They spoke very quietly, and always seem to smile at everybody, and all seemed to know everyone. Even in the five minutes since I arrived at the hotel's event hall, I was already greeted twice with a nod and a smile by the rich strangers. I tried to hide my confusion onto who could they possibly be, and tried smiled in return.

The food seemed to be overflowing. The laughter in the room was everywhere. And everyone seemed to be holding a glass of what I could only presume as liquor.

Clearly, I didn't belong here.

"Bella! Here you are," Jacob called out a few steps from behind me, and I turned around to face him.

As he walked towards me, I noticed that his eyes seemed unable to leave me, taking me in from head to toe. He walked slower than usual. A smile grazed his face when he finally reached me.

"Wow, Bella, you look…" it took him a few head shakes before he finally came up with "…just, stunning."

I blushed a bit.

"Thank you. You look…" and it also took me a moment to describe him before I finally blurted "…like you usually do. Very nice."

"Ouch." He held his chest in a mock-hurt expression. "After all my effort, I still looked the same."

"No, no, no! That's not what I meant. I mean, you always look good. And you always wear coat and tie."

He briefly chuckled, offering me his arm in the process.

"I know. I look great all the time."

I chuckled, linking my arm with his.

After that, Jacob introduced me to few of the people there. Their names didn't stick with me, but I kept my smile in place. They then would briefly talk about business, and would have a private joke, and then laugh, before they would both excuse themselves and would talk to the next person.

When I was introduced to at least twelve people there, receiving compliments about how 'lovely' I looked like, and blushing furiously all those times, Jacob finally decided I've met enough of the upper class people.

"This is just how we socialize. Easy enough, I guess. All you need to do is talk a little about trivial things, and then you'll excuse yourself just as fast." Jacob whispered in my ears just as the lights dimmed, startling me a little. "The program's about to start," he added, noticing my reaction.

"What are the things that will be given for the charity?" I asked.

He chuckled again – he seemed to be doing that a lot. "The _money_ will go to charity, Bella. The _things_, however, will go to the highest bidder. This is an auction event for charity."

"Oh," I uttered, finally understanding the mechanics. Just then, the emcee spoke from the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen of New York, a pleasant evening. This is another event where we can give back to the society. I'm sure you're all dying…"

I was listening attentively to the emcee when something caught my eye. I turned my head to follow what I saw.

At first, I didn't immediately identify the person. But after a few charged seconds, recognition dawned on me.

My eyes were seeing something I find hard to believe as true. But it certainly wasn't my imagination.

Because there, in that crowded room, in the most unexpected place, were two people. I didn't know who the lady was. But the other, I couldn't have been mistaken.

For there, with those warm-and-cold eyes, the same height and build, the tousled reddish brown hair, the strong jaw and sculpted eyebrows framed by the most handsome face, was a man I helped for a week. A man I came to care about. A man who invaded most of my thoughts right after his departure.

My eyes weren't deceiving me.

It was him.

It was Edward.

* * *

**A/N:** Because some people here cannot be reached through private messaging, I have to answer through A/Ns. To the question will Edward show soon? Well, he just did.

Thank you for your time.


	6. Chapter 6: A Silent Crier

**09-28-14 - Important Update**

Currently changing the title: "I'm in Love with a Murderer" to "The Revelations of an Innocent Mind". Hope there will be no confusions. Thanks!

* * *

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 6: A SILENT CRIER**

In that crowded room, in the most unexpected place, I saw him again.

Edward.

It was like time stood still. Or probably slowed down.

The emcee still hosts the bidding, the rich people still raises their numbers, as the price for the auction still gets higher and higher; the talking and whispering and laughter still envelopes the hall; but somehow, all was a blur. Muted. Unnoticed. My eyes are only for Edward. And he, in turn, was staring at me with the same intensity and tension. I felt my heart beat faster. And I felt heated when he very slowly took me in, sweeping me with his eyes from my feet, lingering a bit to my upper body, until, slower than before, he gazed upwards, and finally reached the level of my eyes. I noticed him gasped for air.

And the same gasping was what I did when I took in how he was dressed.

No longer a David of Michael Angelo, he was more like an angel, like Gabriel, wearing a tux and a bow tie, snuggled to his lean and well-built body, polished to perfection. The tousled hair was a bit tamer, but still dangerously unruly on some parts, as though he spent too much time rolling his hands on it. He probably didn't know that he does that. He probably wasn't aware how he looks so charismatic with the tousled hair he has. And I didn't even have it in me to question how I find him painfully attractive and how as a novice nun, I shouldn't notice such things. All I knew was that he looked so incredibly handsome that my heart hurt from beating too much.

And as we gaze at each other – unbidden, charged with all the tension in the room, as my heart races even impossibly faster – a slow crooked smile graced his face, and I must have fainted because I felt like my heart stopped.

And then Jacob placed an arm on my shoulder which made me jump.

"I'm sorry for startling you."

I shook my head, unable to speak.

"Are you alright? You look… flushed."

I must have been blushing furiously, or it must have been because of the fast beating of my heart.

"I just, I just saw someone."

"Who?" Jacob asked, and tried to look at the direction where I previously looked.

"Just… excuse me Jacob."

With that, I extricated myself from him. He didn't even have the time to stop me because not two seconds after, I was already walking towards Edward. But as I looked at where he was before, only the empty wall greeted me.

Frustrated, I tried to walk faster. But with the high-heeled shoes I was wearing, walking is even harder than usual, and running seemed even more impossible.

I once bumped onto a man who immediately steadied me.

"Are you alright miss?"

"I'm fine, thank you," I hastily said, as I continued to walk towards Edward. But still, he was nowhere there.

I looked for him throughout the room, through the dim light, and through the clapping of the upper-class men as an auction has been won. But all I found was nothing.

"Bella."

A man yanked my arm. And I came face to face again with Jacob.

"I'm looking for someone, Jacob. He's somewhere here."

"There are a lot of people here, Bella. And it's dark. You'll find him for sure later – I'll even help you. But for now, can we please go back to our place?"

Thinking he was probably right, I nodded, defeated, and he ushered me towards our previous spot.

"Sooner or later the food will be served again. The bidding will have a short break. And the lights will return. You will find him then. All will be given their seats, and for sure, he will also have his table. That would be easier for us to find him."

I nodded again – still a bit anxious to come sprinting to look for Edward, although I knew Jacob was right.

Jacob kept a steady gaze towards me. A moment passed. He spoke – the sudden change in his tone was hard to miss.

"I asked you here to learn more about me, and now your attention is divided. Tell me, Miss Swan, what shall I do?"

With the new serious tone of his voice, I settled my eyes to him to find his the same as the one I feared before. His hands seemed a bit unsteady; his expression once again intense.

The fear enveloped me again.

Frightened, my voice was barely above a whisper when I said "Jacob, I'm sorry. But please, do not look at me that way. It scares me."

He took a huge breath to calm himself down.

"Sorry, Bella. I sometimes have trouble with my temper."

I smiled a frightened smile. And both of us knew that it was a fake one.

He huffed.

"Now I scared you again. What shall I do?"

"Nothing. Just tell me why you are like that, like what you promised to do."

"But if I will, will you hear everything that I will say? Will I get your full attention?"

With my head somewhere else, I didn't want to promise Jacob something that I can't do. But the primary reason why I went with him to the auction was to hear him out. And so, even if my mind kept telling me to look for Edward, I nodded to Jacob, determined to forget my anxiousness over finding the man I've helped before.

"Do you want to go out then? There's a pavilion near here. Maybe then we could talk without all these distractions."

I exhaled to calm my still fearful and anxious heart.

"Alright. Let's go to the pavilion."

With that, Jacob offered me his arm to lead me outside. Right on the door of the hotel's event hall, I took another glimpse inside, hoping to catch Edward again. But I was disappointed once more.

Once outside, I briefly marvelled at the beautiful scenery the pavilion offers to us. It was a cold night, and the stars were twinkling brightly in the sky. I took a seat at one of the benches, gazing at the stars and the beautiful flowers that sing to us. They, the flowers, serve as somehow a division from the world outside, as though Jacob and I were in our own bubble.

It was magical. And I couldn't help wishing it was Edward with me instead, so that I could talk to him and finally acquire a little bit of the puzzle-pieces that comprise him.

I mentally scolded myself just as Jacob sat beside me, reminding myself that I promised him my entire attention.

"It's beautiful here, isn't it?"

I nodded, discreetly rubbing my hands to the cold. Jacob didn't even notice.

"Alright. I promised you an explanation. And that's what I'm going to do."

I nodded again, looking at him directly at his eyes, showing him that I'm fully listening.

"Bella, by now, you must know that I am a very powerful man. And that I own large enterprises with chains of businesses."

"Yes," I answered. "Though I didn't know you own a lot of businesses."

He briefly smiled. "I do.

"But you see, I never really have to work exceptionally hard to achieve that. I was born from a very wealthy and powerful man – Billy Black – who only passed onto me his possessions. Some say I got lucky. I let them think that way. But Bella, I never was lucky. Not once."

He shook his head as I tried to understand what he meant. A few seconds after, he spoke again.

"I never was close with my father. I grew up with my mother, you see. But even as a kid, I knew that he was of strong character.

"We are the original family. My parents got separated when I was a kid, so my father had another family. But they never got divorced, because their marriage was the union of businesses on both our families, and no one from either of their sides would consent on the divorce. So you probably can guess why I inherited all his money now.

"My father never cared for me. I grew up thinking that fathers only visit once a month – that it was normal for them never to interact with their children. Even when he died, I felt nothing, Bella."

"But at least you have your mother," I countered. He shook his head with a sad smile.

"I never had my mother, Bella. Sure, I grew up with her, but she was always with him."

Confused, I asked "What do you mean?"

He took another huge breath.

"This is hard for me. I never told this to anyone before."

I took both his hands – pity and sympathy mixed with all the emotions I had from earlier. He set his eyes on our entwined hands when he spoke again.

"My mother died when I was twelve. I'm an orphan."

I rubbed my thumb on his knuckles, hoping to comfort him with the gesture.

"So am I," I revealed. He looked me in the eyes. "I was very young then. Most of what I remember was blurry. I grew up in an orphanage," I clarified. He shook his head.

"You're lucky you at least didn't know them."

I grew more confused, stopping my ministrations on his hands. He sighed.

"As a kid, on the short time my parents were still together, I was used to their fighting. They never told anyone, especially because they are part of the high-class society. They can't have gossips following them. But Bella, they get into so huge a fight. And sometimes, it turns physical. My mother is a battered wife."

Dread filled me at the words he said. He took another huge breath.

"That's what I don't understand about her – how can she still love him?! He beats her up, he goes to too many women, he orders my mother around, but my mother was still a martyr. She loved him way too much that it was killing her."

"But they got separated, right?"

"It did nothing to help my mother. She got depressed afterwards, become drunk, and never pays any attention to me. She only thinks about him. She always wants him back. She always begs him to come back. Even when I learned that her drinking got the toll on her, she only begged him more to come back. I offered my comfort to her, Bella, but she turned me away. She doesn't want me. She only wants him. Even on her deathbed, it was him she was calling."

My heart felt like it was drowning in his sorrow, feeling so sorry for what Jacob has had to suffer. But he continued on, and I continued listening to him.

"I remember when she died. I asked her what she wanted. She said she wanted dad. She never even asked for my name.

"But I tried, Bella. At that time, my father was in a meeting. I rushed to his office, demanded from his secretary that he comes out at once, but he never did. I waited for almost an hour…"

He shook his head and gulped, trying to proceed with his story.

"When I got back home, she's gone." As he said those last words, a sad chortle came out of his lips. His eyes were a bit glassy.

I couldn't help myself. I hugged Jacob.

I heard him gasped in surprise.

That was what I only did. I hugged him to try to comfort him, saying nothing. For I knew that at the times of great melancholy, only a silent listener can reach out to the broken heart. And that's what I did. I was the vessel for his unshed tears.

A few moments passed, and he placed both his arms around my waist, hugging me back.

I understood exactly what Jacob was trying to say. He never had his father. And though his mother was with him, he never fully had her attention. That is why it was imperative of him to have what he wants, because if he wouldn't possess it, he feels like nothing would ever be his. He wanted all that he could – businesses, auctions, and what other things I still don't know about. And me. He wanted the control he never had before.

But I knew Jacob was wrong. He doesn't want me the way he thinks he does. He wants someone who could understand him, and comfort him, and show him that he can be loved. He wants someone who could make him feel that he matters. He thinks he could find it with me.

That's why earlier, when he didn't have my attention he grew mad. That's why he wanted to shower me with material things because it's the only way he can show that he cares. That he has my attention. That he has my well-being in thought.

Jacob could not express himself aptly.

After what felt like hours of us hugging each other without words, I finally spoke. And it made Jacob hugged me more.

"You matter."


	7. Chapter 7: Human Complexities and Chaos

**A/N: There's a lengthy A/N below this chapter. It is imperative that you read it.**_**Please**_**. It's the first time I ask you of something, so please don't ignore the A/N below. Thank you.**

* * *

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 7: HUMAN COMPLEXITIES AND CHAOS**

It was around midnight, but I'm still as awake as when I first arrived at the auction. When we came back in from the pavilion, Jacob had entwined our hands below the table, and I allowed them to remain that way. It was my way of letting him release the pent up emotions he was feeling. Though I admit I still wasn't as comfortable around him as I should be, I couldn't tell him to detach himself as I know he was still hurting.

We have had a second break and it was now time for the auction.

Edward had not left my thoughts since I had seen him earlier. I might have channelled my attention to Jacob for the night, but I was still hoping I'd see him.

A woman tapped me on my shoulder, making me turn to her.

"Good evening miss." She had a smile on her face, which I'm not sure was just a product of her being professional or if she was honestly smiling.

"Good evening," I greeted back. Jacob turned his attention to us, halting the conversation he was having with our neighbor.

"May I know your name, please?" The woman asked.

"I'm Bella. Bella Swan."

Her smile grew.

"A pleasure to meet you Miss Swan, I am Gianna, one of the hostesses of the event. We have a tradition in where we ask women such as you to auction a dance. I was hoping you could accommodate us."

"A dance?"

"Yes. Then we will ask the gentlemen to bid for a dance."

"Oh." I looked at Jacob, unable to decide what to do.

He shrugged.

"Well," he said, "why not. It will be fun. And I will bid for you anyway." He winked at me.

"All right," I agreed.

"Thank you Miss Swan," Gianna said. "Shall we proceed at the backstage now? The others are already there."

I nodded, stood, and she ushered me there.

There were about twelve of us, and most of them seemed to know each other, so they kept to themselves, giggling and whispering. The staffs made us fill out a short form about our work, talents, hobbies, and such. It doesn't make sense for me to do this, but I did what was instructed.

After about fifteen minutes, the emcee spoke again, alerting everyone of the next event. After which, we heard him call us, so we all proceeded on to the stage.

The lights were a bit blinding, but once I adjusted my eyes, I grew nervous being in front of all the powerful people of New York. I knew that I didn't belong here, so paranoia kept me company as I feared that no one would bid for me. At least I knew Jacob would.

The first girl was called, and walked to the center. She seemed confident and assured of her beauty.

I grew more nervous.

"Gentleman, Siobhan Palmer is not just the daughter of the head of a leading construction firm in the country; she has her own accomplishments as well. She recently held her fashion show … of lingerie, I must add," the host winked and catcalls ensued, "and she is extremely talented with ballet. Just imagine the possibilities a ballerina can offer." The crowd laughed. Most of the men seemed taken with Siobhan, and she bowed accommodatingly.

"Gentlemen, what am I bid?"

Immediately, a man of about thirty years raised his number and shouted "three thousand dollars."

"Three thousand dollars from the gentleman with number 50. Anyone else?" said the emcee.

"Five thousand," called out another, who looked a bit younger this time.

"Five thousand from the gentleman with number 16. Another one?"

"Six thousand," called out the first man.

"Six thousand. Anyone higher than six thousand?" No one raised their number anymore so the emcee began the count.

"Going once.

Going twice.

Sold to the gentleman at the back!"

The crowd's applause echoed throughout the room as the man walked towards the stage to assist the girl down.

The cycle repeated for each of the girls.

The lowest bid was three thousand, while the average was five. A girl in fitted black dress, with luscious, red hair, got a bid of ten thousand. So far, she was the highest bid.

When it was my turn, my heart was drumming like the soldier's marching going to war. The emcee took the paper I filled out as he introduced me.

"Gentlemen, Miss Isabella Marie Swan. I must commend such a lovely name for such a lovely lady." My blush was instantaneous. I looked down in embarrassment.

"Miss Swan has been helping charities and volunteering for a church program working with the inmates of New York. Just imagine being imprisoned for ten years, and then you see her face. Wow. They must have felt they were in heaven."

The notorious catcalls ensued again, as I blushed a shade darker.

"She's a devote catholic – and of course, no one beats a woman of strong beliefs – and she also serves people…" He stopped at this part, and I waited for him to tell everyone my occupation at Starbucks. But he didn't continue. Instead, he left it that way, as if it was a mysterious, desirable job. "Let's just leave it that way, folks. Imagine everything that she can serve you." And the infamous wink ensued, along with more notorious catcalls.

"Gentleman, what am I bid?"

A man of about twenty-five immediately raised his number. My heart felt like it was an airplane turbine.

"Five thousand," the man shouted.

My eyes grew in surprise.

"Wow, that's a high bid at such an early stage. Five thousand from the gentleman with number 25."

"Six thousand," another man shouted; he was about forty.

"Six thousand. Anyone else?"

"Ten thousand," Jacob shouted from his place. My head immediately snapped to his direction. He smiled at me.

"Getting higher than ever. Ten thousand from the gentleman with number 64."

"Fifteen thousand."

When I heard his voice, my reaction was instantaneous. My eyes grew impossibly bigger; my ears finding it hard to believe what I just heard. I focused my eyes on him, as my heartbeat raced faster.

"A high bid from another gentleman. Fifteen thousand for number 75. Anyone else?"

Jacob threw him an irate look.

"Twenty thousand," shouted Jacob.

The crowd murmured in surprise.

"Getting hotter…"

"Thirty thousand."

Jacob face grew even angrier.

"Forty thousand."

At this point, the crowd was more than intrigued as to who these men could be. And all I could do was stand there, stunned at what was happening.

"Forty thousand from the gentleman of number 64…"

"Sixty thousand."

An echo of surprise rattled the hall. My co-candidates looked flummoxed.

Jacob gritted his teeth as he shouted "One hundred fifty thousand."

"Wow, this is really getting more exciting," the emcee spoke – his surprise genuine.

"Do we have more?"

A silence occurred.

My gaze never leaving _him_.

"Going once…

Going twice…"

"Four hundred thousand."

Silence filled the hall.

Every eye and ear in the room was suddenly attuned to the mysterious gentleman.

"Seems as though this dance is the highlight of the night. Do I have a higher bid? Maybe from the gentleman of number 64?"

Jacob's fists seemed to be shaking a bit, as _he_ was only smiling. The contrast between the two could have been comical were I not the one in the hot spot.

"Seven hundred thousand!" Thundered Jacob.

The crowd couldn't contain their gasps. Even they seem to be thoroughly excited by the exchange of biddings.

"Is this the highest we have yet?"

There was silence.

Everyone was looking at _him,_ waiting for his response.

However, there was only silence.

"Going once…"

Jacob smirked a little.

"Going twice…"

I could feel my palms getting sweaty as the crowd waited with bated breath.

"Going…"

"One million dollars!" _He_ shouted.

Everyone gasped.

Jacob's face contorted in rage.

"Incredible! One million dollars for a dance! Miss Swan must have been really something. Anyone else?"

I looked over at Jacob and our eyes briefly met.

"Going once…"

He seemed flustered. His hands were now visibly shaking.

"Going twice…"

As he was about to speak, I shook my head to him, hoping he'll get that as a 'no'.

"It's now on the second count…"

Jacob sighed, and I knew that it was finally over.

"SOLD! TO THE GENTLEMAN WITH NUMBER SEVENTY-FIVE!"

A thunder of clapping and catcalls echoed throughout the hall. It was the highest bid of the entire night, no doubt.

Our eyes met. Mine were stunned; _his_ were triumphant. A smug, crooked smile graced his face.

I couldn't believe Edward bid on me and won a dance, for one million dollars.

Edward walked towards me to help me down from the stage. I found it hard to move – immobile, I was focused on his unreadable eyes. The shouting and clapping of the people once again seemed a blur.

As I took the hand he offered, a sudden feeling – raw, foreign and heated – tugged at my heart. I felt like I wanted to hold his hand forever. It was a notion that confused and excited me at the same time.

He guided me toward a slightly darker part of the hall as the bidding ensued.

"Are you just going to keep staring at me like that?" He asked.

I found myself overcome with so many words, and there weren't enough moments to let them all out.

However, with all that I wanted to say, the only thing I was able to come up with was "You bought me for a million dollars."

"Well, hello to you, too."

I shook my head, trying to get my bearings.

"You bought _me_ for a _million _dollars. You didn't need to do that. I would have loved to dance with you even without the bidding. It was unnecessary."

"But where's the fun in that?"

"You lived next to me in that grimy apartment. I didn't know you were rich. And _you _bought _me_ for a _million _dollars."

He seemed as if he wanted to laugh – his lips twitched.

"Have I told you that you look stunning? Because if I haven't, well, at least I know I wasn't saying it out loud."

I probably looked dumb as I blinked three consecutive times over what he had said.

A chuckle escaped him.

"Who are you and what happened to Edward?"

The smile suddenly left his lips; he leaned his face closer to mine.

"I told you not to call me my name. Call me Anthony here."

I huffed. And finally calmed.

"How are you?"

"My injury's healed if that's what you mean." He took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and didn't offer me any. I wondered if he knew I didn't drink.

"Great. I was worried about you."

He eyed me while he bit the edge of his glass, and then finally took a sip.

"So, _Anthony_, can you please enlighten me as to why you bid such an _absurd_ amount of money?"

He had consumed the contents from his glass before he spoke.

"I didn't like him – I didn't like him for you."

"Who?"

"The possessive-looking guy who bid with me."

I was overcome with wonder at how he could aptly describe Jacob's character from their brief encounter.

"Jacob."

He gave a sardonic smile. "Huh. He has a name."

"He's my friend. And what you've said doesn't make sense."

As he licked the alcohol from his lips, I was suddenly overcome with a yearning I've never felt before.

"I shouldn't make sense, Bella. Not for you, no. I just couldn't stand the thought of you being with him."

The yearning grew and I didn't understand it at all_._

"Why is that?"

"Because I'm not good a good person."

I smiled at the memory of us discussing the same thing for what seemed like millennia ago.

"You know that I don't believe that, right?"

He shook his head. "You don't know me Bella."

I just shook my head, not wanting to restart that debate.

"But you still didn't answer what I truly want to know: why can't you stand me being with Jacob."

He didn't have time to answer, however, as the music soon began, and the emcee called for our dance.

In a gentlemanly fashion, Edward offered his hand to me. I took it with my heart feeling as though it was soaring.

He led us both to the dance floor – at the very center of the room – together with the other bidders and ladies. I briefly saw the enraged face of Jacob, who was staring towards us, and I flinched. Edward seemed to notice my reaction. Placing his hand on my waist, I placed mine on his shoulders, and he rubbed my back a bit in a comforting gesture. Our eyes met, and there it was again – the flicker of something soft.

Something good.

"Steer clear of him, Bella. I can read people very well, and I can sense that you would be in danger with him."

I touched his face. His eyes grew wide in surprise at my gesture.

"You don't need to worry about him, _Edward_" I whispered his name, "he's nothing but a friend to me."

He seemed to find it hard to breathe and before he spoke, he took a huge breath.

"Good."

"Can I ask you one thing?"

A look of uncertainty crossed his features.

"It depends on what you would ask."

We began to sway a little with the music. I felt that somehow, we were in our own bubble, as if there were no other people in the room.

The feeling excited and scared me.

"Can you please warn me if you're planning to leave me again?"

A moment passed – the pucker between his brows didn't leave his face.

"This is wrong."

"What is? Dancing with me?"

"Being with you at all."

Edward is undoubtedly the most complex person I've ever met. But there was something about him – a pull to him – when he looked at me. I couldn't place it.

"How can it be wrong?"

"Because I'm not good for you. You don't know me Bella, but for a brief moment, I felt as if I wanted to share the night with you. It was a moment of sheer weakness. Maybe I thought you could save me. But no, I'm wrong for you."

"You know that I didn't understand a word you said, right?"

He twirled me. When we came face to face again, the guarded look was back in his eyes.

"That could be for the best."

We didn't speak again for a few moments until he broke the silence.

"Bella, after this night, you will never see me again. I haven't thanked you properly for what you did for me; you saved my life. But that's not enough to save me as a man. And after this, promise me you won't go looking for me anymore."

A feeling of loss suddenly broke my heart. I felt pain in my chest just by the words he spoke.

"How did you know I was looking for you?"

He didn't speak – only looked at my eyes.

Understanding dawned on me.

"You were there, I didn't see things. You were outside my workplace that day when I chased you."

He shook his head.

I stopped moving.

"Why were you there?"

"No I wasn't."

"Yes you were."

He took a deep breath and guided me to continue our dance.

"I had to know that you were safe."

"Safe from who?"

"Bella, there are a lot of things you shouldn't know about me. And I don't want to involve you with them. This dance was just my chance to thank you for what you did for me."

I looked him dead in the eyes – the tension in the room came back again.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't see you anymore."

He returned my look with the same intensity.

"Because I'm dangerous."

My breath was stuck in my throat.

Why would he be dangerous?

Why am I not safe with him?

Why was he aggravated with Jacob?

And why, even after all he had said to me, do I feel like I wanted to stay with him and cling to him? What is this pull he has of me?

"Not good enough," I answered. His face lost some of its guarded look and a flicker of emotion brewed in his eyes.

Even braver, I added "I'm afraid of you."

His face contorted a little to a look of sadness.

"I'm afraid of you, Edward, because I'm not afraid at all. I'm afraid of why after all you have said, I'm still not afraid of you."

The music stopped, and so did our dancing. He gripped my waist a little harder.

"You should go now. I don't want you to see what will happen next."

"What is going to happen?"

He held my face between his hands and looked at me directly to the eyes.

"Please. Leave at once. Please."

And with that, he left me at the center of the room, stunned and perplexed.

The other couples got ready for the next dance.

And then it began.

It started with a scream from a woman. The entire security team went into panic towards the men's room. A bunch of the elite walked towards the commotion, looking for clues on what was happening.

And then, one crying woman shouted, "My husband's dead! They're all dead! My husband's dead!"

In addition, the commotion escalated to panic, crying, shuffling, and bewilderment.

And I was alone on that dance floor, having a hard time processing what was happening, and looking for Jacob to lead me outside.

But I couldn't see him.

And I couldn't move from my place.

Suddenly, someone grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the exit.

* * *

**A/N:** **Disclaimer:** If you read Fifty Shades Darker, you'd know the auction bit in this chapter wasn't originally mine. But I wanted Jacob and Edward to fight over Bella. And knowing them, they wouldn't back down that easily, unlike Grey and his doctor. Sue me.

I met a wonderful person named Fran (her username here is SunflowerFran), who has been helping new authors such as myself with our stories. And because she's awesome, and bright, and gorgeous, and voluptuous, she asked to be my beta. Delighted, (touched, flabbergasted, overwhelmed, amazed), I hurriedly said YES, PLEASE. (She is not allowed to edit A/Ns though, so this part's grammar probably sucked). Anyway, it's thanks to her that now my story is being beta'd.

And, because she's wonderful, she asked her equally awesome, and bright, and gorgeous, and voluptuous, and generous friend to create a banner for this story. She made FIVE banners (imagine that?).

The official banner's link is facebook dot com slash photo dot php ? fbid = 535808459882436&amp;set = a dot 132548016875151 dot 26216 dot 100003598613288 &amp; type = 1

(you know the drill. change dot to . , remove the space, etc.)

I also placed the full link on my profile. (I think it would be easier to view it from there). The banner is also my cover photo.

Anyway, to Car Lemon of Canada, I haven't met you yet, but I love you. Thank you for your talent.

So again, beautiful SunflowerFran and equally gorgeous Car Lemon, thank you.

A lot of changes are happening right now with the story, like the title change, as you've noticed. Please bear with me. These changes are for the best.

Thank you all for your time. (Sorry for the lengthy A/N. I'm just filled with good news and positive vibes that I can't contain).


	8. Chapter 8: The Puzzle Pieces

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 8: THE PUZZLE PIECES**

As I was dragged to the parking lot, I managed to look back to the event hall. I saw the police officers arriving, security restraining people as they tried to leave, and the frightened looks of the scrambling elites.

We came to a stop in front of a fast-looking car.

"I have to go back!" I shouted, but my captor didn't pay any attention. Instead, she only opened the car-door for me, and then walked around the car towards the driver's seat.

"What are you waiting for? Get in. Or do you need me to drag you inside?"

In the dim light, I marveled at her beauty and her confidence. Her long, blonde hair and her blood-red dress made her look very attractive. I've never seen anyone as beautiful as her. She looked like an angel – a dangerous, striking angel.

Then recognition dawned on me.

"You're the one Ed- I mean Anthony was with."

"Can we please save this chit chat for later? In case you didn't notice, we're trying to run away here. Now, get in."

I briefly contemplated my options.

How far could I run before she would catch me? As she saw me hesitating, she began to approach… And suddenly, without warning, she pushed me into the car.

In less than a minute, we were already hitting the road.

"Bella Swan, right?" she asked, breaking the silence.

Frightened by her maniac driving, I was clutching my armrest as I answered her, "Yes."

"Edward's a fucking lunatic, I'll tell you that…" I flinched at her words. She didn't break her sentence though, continuing, "Asking me to drive you while risking almost everything about us and our identity… As if it would help for you to call him Anthony! And that fuck ass bidding he did for you? He was nuts! What if they learn about us? He has to start using his fucking mind!"

The car accelerated even impossibly faster, and I was astonished at how she could easily maneuver between traffic.

"I hope Emmett cleaned the job well. Edward was the one to drag us into this in the first place. If something happens to Emmett, I swear to God, the fuckface will find his Volvo's body-parts rotting to pieces."

I waited until she finished ranting. And then, as though having a split personality, she suddenly smiled at me.

"I'm Rosalie, by the way. And _Anthony's_ my dipshit of a brother. We're not really related, you know, but we kind of grew up together as children."

I nodded, finding it hard to speak.

Shocked.

And unexpectedly relieved to learn that she was only a sister to him.

"This is your place, right?"

As I looked outside, I was surprised that we were, indeed, already outside my apartment building. It took us only ten minutes to arrive.

"You seem shocked. Did the event do that to you?"

I nodded again and tried to speak this time – my voice sounding weak.

"I'm just surprised, that's all. Can you at least tell me why Edward told you to drive me home?"

She shook her head in a reprimanding gesture.

"Don't call him by his name. We don't want anyone knowing that, you understand me?"

"But why? Who are you people? Do you have a connection with what happened back there?"

She smacked her forehead, laughing, which made me more confused.

"Well, at least he didn't tell you anything. About time that asshole used his head." She straightened in her seat. "You don't want to know about us, trust me. Edward's just stubborn sometimes, and clearly was out of his fucking mind to help you. But he's a bit overprotective. I just hope we won't see you again."

Hearing her hope never to see me again, felt as if I had been slapped. However, I quickly recovered, remembering what Edward had told me – how he is _dangerous_. And it seems like this sister of his, Rosalie, was only trying to protect them.

But, who are they?

"Bella, I'll tell you one thing, though."

She leaned closer to me.

"He never was like this. Distracted. But I think it's a good thing. He needs some break from all the crazy-shit we do. And you seem kind of a refreshing change." She then touched my face, which made me flinch.

"You're pretty, I'll give him that much."

Then suddenly, she kissed my lips, shocking me to my core. As she detached her lips from mine, she laughed at my comical-looking, frozen face.

"See you!"

After that, she reached across me to open my door, and I mechanically got out of the car.

As Rosalie drove away, I finally regained my composure enough to move my feet and walk towards my apartment.

The moment that I got inside my room, I checked my phone to find thirty missed calls and twelve text messages, all from Jacob. Nevertheless, I couldn't find it in me to call him back, feeling frustrated with his possessiveness. I couldn't find the strength to deal with Jacob for now, with all that has happened.

The events of the night replayed in my mind: The dead body... The scrambling people... Jacob's confession... The dance…

Who could Edward be?

Through all these thoughts, one course of action suddenly solidified in my mind. Determined, I promised myself one thing: I will find out Edward's identity.

And as I tucked myself in bed, I made a solemn prayer to God to guide me to him.

The next day, I sketched out a plan to find the host of the auction, hoping that he had a list of all the attendees. In that way, I was hoping to gain at least some information regarding Edward.

I called-in sick for work, feeling guilty for lying. However, I feel strongly that I need to figure out the puzzle that is Edward as soon as I could, or else, it would never leave my mind. Mike seemed to be in a good mood over the phone and allowed me without so much as a fuss.

To start my research, I had to call the only person who could introduce me to the host.

He answered on the first ring - his voice loud and panicked.

"Finally! I was already planning to contact the police. Actually, I already did, but they wouldn't do anything because you've only been gone for the night. God, Bella, where are you? Why weren't you answering my calls? What happened to you? I've been so worried."

I sighed, feeling tired of his questions even before I answered any.

"I got home just fine. You don't need to worry about me. I was driven by a friend, and I was just too tired to call you back; I fell asleep immediately. Sorry, I missed your calls."

"Who drove you home? Was it that guy who bid for you yesterday?" he accused, sounding mad and demanding.

"No. I was driven by _a girl_." I emphasized, not thoroughly lying; only not telling him everything.

He sounded calmer when he spoke next.

"But are you all right? Do you have a fever or something?"

His question alerted me.

"Why do you ask?"

"I called your boss and he told me you called-in sick. Are you okay?"

_Of cours__e, __he knows my boss._

"I'm fine, I just need to rest," I lied.

I've been constantly lying since I got to New York.

"Jacob, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Do you have a contact number of the host for yesterday's auction?"

"Mr. Jenks? Yes. He was the one who invited me to the event. Why?"

I smiled. "Can I please have his number or his address? I want to meet up with him."

"I can probably arrange that. But Bella, why do you want to meet up with Mr. Jenks?"

This is the part I didn't plan – Jacob's inquisitions. Of course, he would want to know.

I thought of a good enough excuse that didn't sound too over-the-top.

"I was thinking of asking him to benefit the charity that my congregation was working with. Remember the nuns I was with when we met while asking for donations?"

"Oh, yes. But wait, I thought you were helping inmates?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat – sweating a bit because of the lies I was telling.

"Amongst other things. We also help other charities. And I grew up in an orphanage, so, you know, maybe they can also benefit from the next auction," I blabbered, hoping he would buy it.

I sighed when he seemed to believe me.

"Yeah, well, when do you want to meet him?"

"I was planning to call him instead," I answered, fearing that if I told him I'd meet the host today, he'd question whether I was really sick or not.

"I'll send you the details in a short while."

I sighed in relief. "Thank you. This means a lot."

A moment passed as he seemed to struggle to say something.

"You weren't planning to ask him about that guy who bid for you, were you?"

More sweat permeated my forehead because of his questions.

"I don't even know him," I nervously laughed.

Again, he seemed to believe me and I heard him chuckle.

"Sorry. I was just paranoid. I kept thinking that he was the one you were looking for yesterday."

I nervously laughed again – my heartbeat accelerating because he guessed right.

"No. It was my friend. I've told you, I was driven by a _girl__friend_ of mine."

"I thought you said you were looking for a _'he'_?"

"No. I said 'she'. You probably heard wrong."

A moment passed, as I feared he would not believe me.

Then he said, "Probably."

I exhaled the breath I was holding.

"Okay, I'll just send you Mr. Jenks' contact info then."

"Thanks, Jacob."

"No prob," he said, sounding cheerful again. "But Bella, next time, please, try to contact me so I won't get worried, okay?"

"Okay."

"Rest, and get well soon."

With that, we finally both hung up, leaving me in wonder whether I truly fooled him or not and fervently hoping that I did.

The moment Jacob sent me Mr. Jenks' number and address, I immediately called him. His secretary answered and instantly scheduled an appointment for ten am. Apparently, it was Mr. Jenks' only free time. He was to attend several police interrogations regarding what had happened at the event, as well as meeting with those he had invited; feeling the need to apologize in person to each of them. I had a nagging feeling that once again, Jacob had a hand in getting in to meet Mr. Jenks. But then again, he seemed to have believed me when I said that I was sick. Not wanting to dwell too much on my hunch, I put it out of my mind. Whether or not my meeting was through Jacob's help, I would not waste the chance to find clues about Edward.

At nine in the morning, I was already headed towards our meeting when I passed by a newspaper stand. I would have not paid attention to it, if not for one of the headlines from the front page, which caught my eyes. I instantly saw that it was about the events of the previous night, and so, I made an impulsive decision to purchase one.

I took the opportunity to read it inside the cab I had hailed.

_City Councilman Publicly Murdered by Suspected Notorious Hitman_

_Mark Stinson, age 55, one of the city council members of New York, was killed last night at the hands of an unknown killer who is still at large._

_According to the testimony of his wife, they arrived at the event at the Grand Herald Hotel in New York City with their three bodyguards, all of whom were allowed inside the hall to secure the council member's safety. All seemed to go well at the auction, but around 12:05 AM, Mr. Stinson excused himself to go to the restroom, accompanied by the guards. Thirty minutes later, his wife, Mrs. Hazel Stinson, found it unusual for him to have been gone for so long, and asked one of the men to check on him. It was at that time they found her husband, as well as his bodyguards, shot in the chest in a pool of blood._

_Chief of Police Charlie Stanley said at a press conference that there is no outside person who could have committed the crimes. It had to have been one of the guests at the event. His team was currently looking for a political angle, or any enemies the Councilor might have had. However, he released a surprising declaration this morning: "The [bullet] shots were aimed very professionally, hitting the victims' chests at close range. There were no signs of any other injuries on their bodies or any struggle. None of them held a gun in defense. There were four of them, and from a police perspective, you would automatically reach for any defense weapon. These men were trained to protect, yet it seems they failed at their task. _

_"Also, it was done in the men's room. It's hard to know who will go in there, so it was hard to determine when to corner the victims. But [it's] smart, actually, because toilets are the only places without CCTV cameras." he added._

_He further relayed. "There were no power interruptions, so it was almost impossible not to see the culprit. The plan was cleanly executed. We've seen this before. This seems to be the work of Masen." _

_Chief Stanley refers to the notorious gun-for-hire that the police call 'Masen'. According to their records, Masen has killed a total of nine, high-profile men including the council member, all done in a clean-cut manner, leaving no trails. These people are all upper-class men who are involved in politics, business, and even sports, and were murdered in a span of five years. However, little is known about the mysterious killer. Only that he is a tall, medium-built man._

_Currently, the remains of Councilman Stinson are scheduled for public viewing on Saturday, May 3, and a cremation will follow._

_The question remains: was the killer a political rival, or was it the dangerous, mystery killer? And if it is truly the latter, who could this killer be? "He could be anyone you meet, any one of us," Chief Stanley grimly answered. _

"Miss, that's fifty dollars."

The cab driver made me jump a little, alerting me to the present.

I paid him, and got out at Mr. Jenks' office building, with my mind still on what I had read.

Four things jumped out to me from the article: tall, medium-built, hitman, and professionally done. In addition, the last quote from Chief Stanley leaves such a huge impression on me, regarding how the killer could be anyone I might have already met. After reading what happened from the newspaper, it felt to me as if the event I had attended was an entirely different one and that I wasn't there when it happened.

I said a small prayer for the dead man and hoped that whoever the killer is would find his way to God again.

When I arrived at the 27th floor, I was greeted by Mr. Jenks' secretary. I was then ushered to one of the empty meeting rooms where I then waited for about a quarter of an hour until Mr. Jenks arrived.

"Miss Swan, a pleasure to meet you."

He offered his hand, and I took it as I greeted him back.

"Mr. Jenks. Thank you for agreeing to meet me at such a short notice."

He took a seat at the head of the table and gestured for me to sit as well.

I noticed the dark shadows under his eyes, and I guessed that he must have been up all night answering the police about what had happened to Councilman Stinson. It made me question more whether meeting him was because of Jacob.

"No problem, Miss. It was thanks to you that I was able to raise big money last night. Although, I apologize for what happened after."

"It's all right, sir. It was out of your hands."

The secretary came in then to offer us drinks. I politely refused while Mr. Jenks requested a coffee.

"Not a fan of coffee, Miss Swan?"

"I already had a cup before I came here."

He politely smiled.

"I reckon that there is something you need from me. Shall we get on with it?"

"Yes, sir. There is something I want to know."

He gestured for me to continue.

"I was wondering if I could get a copy of your guest list from last night's event.

He looked a bit taken aback. "What for?"

"I wanted to know the man who bid for me, Mr. Anthony. We haven't been able to talk that much, you know, because of what happened."

I blushed accordingly, hoping he would interpret my embarrassment as the effect of what I've said, and not because I was skirting around my true purpose of acquiring the list.

"Young love? Is that it?"

I smiled, relieved that he digested my acting.

He chuckled a bit, but a tired frown showed on his face.

"I'm afraid I'm not allowed to give information about my guest list to anyone, Miss Swan, as they are high-profile people, and you've already witnessed what happened. I could only show the list to the cops."

I frowned at what he said.

"That's too bad."

He eyed me for a while.

"Although," he started, making me turn my head towards him again, "I probably can give you a little bit of information about Mr. Anthony." He eyed me directly. "But only him, Miss Swan, and that's because I think he wouldn't bid for you the way he did for nothing."

"Thank you Sir. You are very kind," I gushed, unbelieving and delighted. The middle-aged man smiled.

"But promise me you won't tell anyone that I gave you this, all right?"

"I promise," I hurriedly vowed.

With that, he summoned his secretary again. A few minutes later, the secretary came back with said file and his coffee.

He took a moment to scan the documents, until he took a piece of paper from it.

"Here," he said, passing the paper to me. "That's an original copy, so ask for my secretary to photocopy it for you, and then give it back to her. She'd know what to do."

"Thank you, sir. Thank you so much," I said as I reached out for the paper. I wanted to read it right there and then but I controlled myself, saving the information for when I was alone. I then stood to leave the room.

"Hold on, Miss Swan, there's one more thing that I wanted to say."

I nodded, taking my seat again and waiting for him to continue.

"You know, I've known many wealthy people from New York, but there's something different about Mr. Anthony. I've brushed arms with him on more than one occasion, but yesterday was the only time that he's done that – bid so fervently for someone.

However, I warn you to be careful. You seem like a kind, innocent girl for someone like him. I just want you to think it through before you do anything."

As I looked at his tired, worn-out eyes, I felt that somehow Mr. Jenks knew more about Edward than he let on, and that whatever it was, he wasn't able to talk about it to anybody for fear of his own safety.

I gave him a smile.

"Don't worry, Mr. Jenks. Your secret is safe with me."

He returned my gesture with a secret smile.

"One more thing: the cops will probably start questioning everyone about yesterday, so just be prepared when they get to your home."

"Yes sir. Thank you again."

"Have a good day."

When I arrived at my apartment, it didn't surprise me to find four officers waiting for me. I tried to act as normal as I could, casually holding the envelope with Edward's information inside. I silently thanked God that I first met with Mr. Jenks so he was able to warn me about this beforehand.

"Good afternoon, officers. How can I help you with?"

I unlocked my door, and then gestured for them to come inside. All four men took in my invitation.

"Good afternoon, Miss. I believe you are Isabella Marie Swan?" One of the officers – the oldest of them, and the one with a moustache, greeted me.

"Yes sir. Please take a seat." I gestured at my couch. Again, they took the invitation.

The man with the moustache made a quick scan about my room, lingering his eyes on my bible, rosary and figurines.

"A devote Catholic, I see," he commented.

"Yes. I grew up in a convent."

The other three men made slightly surprised reactions, but the mustached one only cleared his throat for what he was about to say next.

"You probably already have a clue why we are here."

"Yes. The auction yesterday was truly an unfortunate event," I replied with genuine sadness.

"Yes. Well, I'm Charlie Stanley, chief of police of NYPD... or that is what I say to the press, but in truth, I'm part of FBI."

"Oh," I uttered, surprised that the FBI is part of the investigation so soon. In addition, as protocol, he showed me his badge.

"We came here, not only to investigate yesterday's event. We're also here because we wanted to know about this notorious hit man, Masen."

"Hitman? What have I got to do with a hit man?"

"Well, a certain report claimed that sometime last month, Masen had stayed at one of the cheap apartments in Manhattan. We're looking through all the possible places, and we have reason to believe that he could have been here, on this floor."

"What? How could that happen?" I laughed, unbelieving. "The only other person who stayed here was…" I started, but remembering how I first encountered Edward, and how he was mysteriously injured, made me stop talking. Could it be…?

My hands shook a little.

"Yes, Miss?"

I looked back at the officers – the tumultuous circumstances catching up on me.

Edward's refusal to use his own name…

Edward telling me he is dangerous…

Edward bidding for me for such an absurd amount of money…

Edward turning out to be a wealthy man…

Edward cautioning me to leave immediately after the dance…

Edward's injury…

The newspaper this morning…

Masen…

Suddenly, the words of the Southern prisoner I met days before rang in my head: _I'd be careful around here Miss, if I were you…_

He couldn't have been him… could he?

"Miss Swan? What is it?"

Startled, I cleared my voice to answer agent Stanley.

"Nothing. What were you saying again? About this Masen?"

"Well, actually, you were saying something about your neighbor."

"Right. Um, Sir, before I say anything, can you please tell me first what you know of this Masen? Is he dangerous?"

The men had shared a look before agent Stanley spoke again.

"He is more than dangerous, Miss Swan. He's a hitman. He's skilled at killing."

I nodded, feeling unsettled.

_It__ couldn't have been him…_

"But had he ever killed a civilian? You know, a regular citizen? One who's not a politician or renowned?"

The line between the agent's eyes got deeper as he seemed perplexed about my questions, adding to the other stress lines he already has on his forehead.

"Why do you ask?"

I vigorously shook my head. "Just curious."

One from his team answered me instead.

"Masen's a little bit different than most hit men. I mean, that guy only targets high-profile men, and we sure can get that it's a bigger commission for him. But all those he kills – even the bodyguards yesterday – weren't that spotless…"

Suddenly Agent Stanley hit him in the arm, silencing him immediately.

"Anyhow, Miss, Masen seems to target only the upper-class men, so you shouldn't worry that much about him. Unless you're actually a wealthy heiress of some sort," agent Stanley interjected, eyeing my room at the last part of his sentence as though trying to make his point.

"No. I was just curious."

"So, about that neighbor…?"

"Oh, yes, um…" I contemplated whether I should tell him what I know. I do not have proof about anything yet, but I knew in my gut that there's a high probability that I'm right. I even feel stupid for not seeing it at first – all those little details seem to point to his true identity. The only question now is what I should do about this knowledge.

Edward pleading for me not to tell anyone about him echoed in my head. He had said that I would be in danger if I tell someone about him.

However, the right thing to do, morally and socially, is to tell the truth. But will I be able to carry the guilt if I knew that I betrayed his plea?

I tried to swallow the bile in my throat before I spoke.

"Well, sir, I had a neighbor almost a month ago. He's about six feet in height, medium-built…"

"That's him! I mean, that could be him," said the other men.

Agent Stanley gestured for him to stop talking.

"Had you seen his face, Miss?"

"I never actually interacted with him. The only time I saw him was one night, it was dark, and he was wearing a hat so I didn't see his face. But he was tall, and Caucasian. He kept to himself, you know. He never really talked to me. He always moved so silently, like a ghost or something. He moved out about a month ago," I lied again, for what seemed like the umpteenth time for the day, gripping the piece of paper that contains the information about him harder.

"Sounds like him. Well, thank you for your time Miss Swan," the agent and his team started to stand, and I copied them. "We're going to do our investigation next door."

"Thank you, sir; I hope that I was able to somehow help you."

"You did, Miss," he gruffly answered. "You confirmed one thing: Masen was the one who killed the Councilman yesterday, and he's probably not far from here yet."

I gulped.

"Have a good day."

With that, they finally left my room, leaving me with my thoughts.

The moment that I closed my door, I felt like crying from what I did and from what I learned. It was a stupid reaction, but some helpless tears dropped from my eyes. My mind was in chaos; my emotions were conflicted. I felt as if I had gathered and sorted the puzzles pieces, but instead of finishing, I was left with a bigger image and larger puzzle.

One important question remained.

What should I do now?

* * *

**A/N: **Beta'd by the awesome SunflowerFran. You probably wouldn't understand this chapter without her help. She's awesome that way.

Also, a shout out to _Find your 'Ella_ group in FB, as they have made this story "Story of the Week". That's really amazing and I'm quite overwhelmed. Thank you so much!

Thank you all for your time.


	9. Chapter 9: The Girl in the Coffee Shop

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 9: THE GIRL IN THE COFFEE SHOP**

**Anthony Platt, Jr., son of Elizabeth and Anthony Platt, Sr., 28 years old multi-millionaire CEO of Platt Corporations in England, UK.**

I don't believe it for a minute. No CEO would think of staying at some cheap and grimy apartment if they could stay at a luxurious, five-star hotel. In addition, I hadn't even sensed an English drawl in the way he spoke. No. The information in my hand is falsified – something to tell the public when they ask about him. If anything, the only piece of information I believe therein was his age.

I browsed more of the document given to me by Mr. Jenks, finding his two office numbers, his address in England and here in the US, and a little bit about his hobbies. They all sounded superfluous, as if looking into the profile of a man who has everything in the world and who has the skills and capacity to do anything he wanted.

This isn't the same man who wouldn't go to the hospital when he had been stabbed.

I lie here three in the morning finding it hard to sleep, feeling as though all the information I've gathered today would crush my brains. Sipping my fourth cup of coffee, the question was once more brought to the forefront of my mind: what should I do now?

I know that keeping the information I have from the FBI is socially and morally wrong. Moreover, it makes me feel tremendous guilt. But at that time, when they had asked, I couldn't bring myself to say what I knew. But why couldn't I do it?

I sighed, hoping that sleep would finally find me.

When I woke up the next day, my dreams were still vivid … As if they had been real.

I remembered everything, and still felt the emotions I had experienced in my dream; _Edward was dancing with me – the setting was the same as in the auction – and he made me twirl. When I faced him again, I didn't see the same, attractive man. Instead, his face was covered in blood, and in his right hand was a gun. He was smiling that same crooked smile, but it didn't have the same impact on me; for the first time, I was afraid of him._

_I ran away from him, only to stumble on something. When I looked at what it was, I saw a body. Frightened, I screamed. Then Edward fired a bullet into the body, and the blood gushed from it._

_As I inspected the body more, a gasp escaped my lips. Because I realized that I knew who the man was._

_It was Jacob._

That was when I woke up.

A cold bath and more coffee did nothing to erase my dreams, either did praying.

When I arrived at work around seven in the morning I was surprised to be greeted by a jolly Jessica, making me briefly wonder how she got over her depression.

"There's a guy waiting for you. And F-Y-I, prepare yourself, 'cause he is hot, like capital H-O-T."

My heart beat faster as my mind conjured that it could be Edward.

"Where is he?" I asked as I put down my bag on our small locker and pulled out my apron.

"He's right there, the table at the very back."

"Thanks." I put on my apron and took in three, deep breaths. My heart was drumming as I walked, looking down at the floor.

And then, I looked up.

When I saw who wanted to see me, I exhaled loudly.

"Hi."

"Hey," I greeted back – disappointment coloring my tone to find that it wasn't Edward who was waiting for me.

It was Jacob.

He noticed my reaction and his expression changed to one of worry.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yes," I replied, taking a seat in front of him.

"You look tired. Are you sure you're not sick anymore? I was so worried about you."

"I just couldn't sleep well yesterday. Had a bad nightmare. And these cops came to my house asking me about what happened at the auction."

He relaxed, swallowing my excuse.

"Yeah, they also went to my place."

I nodded. "So, what brings you here?"

"Oh, umm, I brought you something." He placed a container of food on the table between us. "It's soup. I asked my housemaid to make it for you. I just thought it would be good for you to recover after being sick."

"Oh," I uttered, surprised and touched. Then I smiled a genuine one. "Thank you. That's very thoughtful of you."

"Nah. I was actually planning to come to your place yesterday, but there was some stuff I was working on that I couldn't postpone."

"Of course. Your work is important."

He bit his lip, as though there was something he was not telling me. However, he said, "Yes, work is important."

A moment passed – neither of us talking – until Jacob broke the silence.

"So, have you heard from the guy that bid for you that night?"

The feeling of sadness filled me again.

"No. And I don't plan on that happening."

"Oh, really?"

I took a huge breath. "It's probably for the best. We are so unlike and lead very different lives."

"I thought you didn't know him?"

Alarmed at what I had said, I immediately covered my answer "If he could go to the auction and bid that much money … what could we possibly have in common? Should I ever see him again I wouldn't try to initiate any conversations."

"Really? Then why did you try looking for him through Mr. Jenks?" A hint of cynicism colored his tone.

Dumbfounded, I looked at him finding it hard to speak.

"Y-you know about that?"

Then it all clicked.

"Oh my, you were looking into him. That's your 'important' work, isn't it? You were investigating E-Anthony?"

Like a deer caught in the headlights, Jacob's eyes grew wide and his mouth popped open.

Feeling irate, frustrated and tired of his attitude, I questioned him in a high-pitched tone "Why did you do that, Jacob? What do you want to know about him?"

"Look, Bella, he bid for you for a God-damned million dollars. The guy is obviously more than crazy about you. I had to know his motive, and you already know that I like you. I can't let him ruin the whole game for me."

"Jacob, I AM NOT SOME KIND OF GAME!" It was the first time in my life that I had ever shouted at someone, and somehow, it felt good to let my emotions out. Right now I felt conflicted; I was annoyed, aggravated and indignant. At the same time, I was both guilty and sad, and Jacob just showed me that his possessive nature was ruling him again.

Somehow, I found myself already standing as I continued my rant.

"And I've told you I don't date. I only want friendship from you. How is that so hard to understand? It shouldn't matter to you if I talk to someone else, or that I like someone else, or if I don't. We danced – that's all. And you want to dig everything up about him. I'm not some kind of possession you could have by being so utterly demanding and stubborn. I have a mind of my own, and my decisions shouldn't concern you. This can't go on any longer – you can't always get in between my life like this. You have to grow up, Jacob. I can't be a mother to you."

I remained standing with my hands shaking. Everyone from the café was looking at us, but I couldn't find it in me to care about what they thought. All I knew was that I wasn't in the best of moods and Jacob ruined it more with his misplaced possessiveness.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he stood up as well and tried to speak in a calming voice as if I were some animal going berserk and he was trying to tame me. "I knew I shouldn't have done that, but I can't help it. It was wrong of me, I know. Please forgive me. Give me another chance."

"You can't always try to rule me."

He nodded saying "Yes, and I'm sorry."

I still wasn't placated, however, and he seemed to sense this.

"Would it help if I tell you I didn't learn anything about him?"

I blinked once.

"You didn't?"

Seeing that I was starting to calm down, he grasped this chance to speak. Taking his seat again. I also took mine.

"I couldn't find anything more than what you already did. I learned that he was from England and that his business was there, but I didn't find anything useful. What is he doing here? Who is he? Is he married, or dating? What made him come to the auction?" He shook his head, as though he was helpless.

What he didn't know was that what he told me only strengthen my guess about who Edward was.

"Yes. I also didn't learn anything different," I lied – again, constantly lying this many times – and fiddling with the corner of the food container as he eyed me.

"Have you forgiven me now?"

I sighed and finally relented.

"Yes. But Jacob, this – I couldn't use a better word – this _obsession_ you have of owning something has to stop. You can't possess me. And I _don't_ date," I emphasized the word.

He nodded.

"All right. But I can still be a friend, right?"

"Yes. But nothing more," I warned.

Jacob smiled, and I hoped that he finally would stop pursuing me.

* * *

Days passed – as they should, but every ticking of the clock seemed like a lifetime to me.

I knew that I had to get on with my life and that what I had told Jacob about not seeing Edward anymore was true. That day, I vowed never to search for anything about Edward, finally understanding how complex his situation was, and that I should not be dragged into it. I knew it was the right thing to do.

I have tried to make every day a typical one. Going to work, helping the inmates, going to church, spending time with Jacob. However, if I were truly to divulge what was deep within the confines of my mind, I know that what I am showing everybody is not how I honestly feel.

I still feel lost and empty.

And I don't know why, but somehow I felt as if there was a hole in my chest – as though some pieces of my heart were missing. I have not been able to find an exact word to describe what that means.

However, there were times when I would come across some news about him, about Masen. I felt like such a fool that I'd never noticed them before. But now, they seem to be everywhere. Updates from the police about him, more descriptions about who he could be, his latest whereabouts, etc. And I would release a huge breath whenever there was no mention about him killing another person.

I haven't talked to the Southern inmate anymore, and he still always keeps to himself. However, whenever I would observe him, I would always see him grinning as though there was something he was finding amusing. One of the nuns cautioned me that he might be daft.

I still pray each day, and my confession to the priest that Sunday after my continuous lying had led to a lengthier prayer. But quite frankly, though I feel guilty for lying, I do not regret all that I did. Every day, I would pray for Edward's safety, and that God would guide him and that somehow, someway, he would receive help.

I pray for him even more than the children at the orphanage.

Life is normal.

Boring and normal.

However, I feel as though my perception about life and the world had a permanent change, as though the past events had opened my eyes to many other things that had never concerned me before. Because of this, I feel as if I have grown a year or two.

"She's looking at you again."

"That girl?"

"Yes, like she does every day."

I stared back at the girl with short, black hair, as she sipped her coffee and pretended to read the magazine in her hand. She was tiny, thin, and had big, dreamy eyes.

"When did she first arrive?" I asked Jessica, my eyes not leaving the girl.

"You mean when was the first time she came here, decided to spend the whole day just sipping coffee, reading a magazine and acting as if you hadn't noticed her? About three weeks ago. Why?"

I chuckled at the tone Jessica used to describe the stranger… As though she was some stalker.

"I just think I have a very good idea why she's here."

At first, I hadn't believed Jessica when she told me that the girl was spying on me. However, I see her here, all day, whenever it's my shift, so I wondered if she could be right. After Jessica revealed to me that on the days that I don't work she is not present, I finally took her word for it. It would be too much of a coincidence for her to be around only when I am.

"Do you plan to talk to her?"

I busied myself with wiping the countertop.

"I don't know. Maybe."

Right on time, Jacob entered the with our lunch.

"Your boyfriend should get a gold medal for punctuality – he never misses our lunch break."

"He's not my boyfriend."

Jessica gave me a teasing smile.

"Sure, he's not."

Ever since the day I told Jacob to stop pursuing me, he made good on his promise and treated me as a regular friend. He never showed me his possessive nature, and I was hoping that it would stay that way.

"How about you and Mike? You guys seem to be very secretive these days."

Jessica made a sign of zipping her lip and throwing away the key.

"All right, all right. I get it. Now, go to your secret boyfriend."

She made a chuckle as she ran towards Mike's office.

Even without Jessica confirming it, I know she and Mike were already in a relationship. I couldn't understand why they try to keep it a secret in the first place – they were so obvious to me. But whatever their reasons are, I'm just glad that Jessica's wish had finally been granted.

"Hi Bells. Lunch?"

Jacob has somehow developed that nickname for me. And every day, his greeting has been the same.

"Sure. I'll just ask Tyler to sub for me."

When Jacob and I were eating, I noticed the girl keeping a closer eye on us.

It made me a bit uncomfortable.

And because of that, at the end of my shift, I planned to confront her.

However, that was easier said than done.

Before confronting her, I spent about half an hour in the girl's room rehearsing what I would say. After which, another half hour was spent just getting the courage to walk the few steps towards her table.

When I did reach her table, all the things I wanted to say came out as "What do you want?" And it was said through a shaky voice that didn't come out quite as expected.

It sounded pathetic.

She smiled at me as she put her magazine down on the table.

"Why don't you sit first?" She had a very pleasant voice, like a voice on a TV commercial.

I did as she has asked – my fists closed as I tried to be confident.

"I know who sent you here, and I know you've been watching me all the time. Tell him that I don't need anyone watching me."

She chuckled – even her laugh was like music.

"He's right – you're incredibly observant and brave, though I'd suggest you loosen your fists a little bit. That has to hurt."

Again, I did as I was told, and took a huge breath. She leaned closer to me, crossing both her hands below her chin.

"So, who do you think sent me here?"

"Don't play games with me – I know it was Edward."

She chuckled again.

"Bingo. He'll be pissed that you guessed right. I guess I wasn't as discreet as I thought."

I wondered if she did that on purpose – make me notice her watching so I would come over and talk to her.

"What does he want?"

"Your safety, of course. And I have to agree with him on one thing – I also don't like that Jacob guy hovering over you like a hawk."

That pissed me off a little.

"Well, tell him, his debt is paid. He doesn't need someone to watch over me anymore – I am safe. He doesn't need to do this out of guilt or as payment to me for saving his life. Also, reiterate to him that I already told him that Jacob was a friend and nothing more."

"Honey, trust me, Jacob is _not_ just a friend. I know the likes of him. And though you may treat him only as such, I'm sure that's not how he interprets your intentions."

I huffed.

"One more thing: I don't think he sent me over out of his guilt or payment. I think he genuinely cares for you."

Hearing her say that made my heart begin to beat in a different way – a beating that had only happened when I was with Edward. It was as though some of who I had been before had returned.

Nevertheless, I squashed it as soon as I noticed the change in my heart – I could not have this hope anymore.

"I thought he told me to stay out of his life?"

"_Anthony_ is overprotective about the people he cares about. He's paranoid about their safety. He doesn't want to lose anyone again."

Does that mean that he had lost someone important before?

"Well, tell him I made good on my promise. He won't see me ever again. So please, have him make you stop following me."

"I'll try."

"Also, I know the truth."

This changed the girl's expression, making her focus on me even more.

"What do you mean?"

I sighed, drawing strength to say my hunch, knowing that this could be the moment to prove that I'm correct.

"Edward. Anthony. Masen. That's him, right?"

The girl gasped in shock.

"You know."

"Yes."

"So now you don't want to see him again because you know."

"Yes."

A look of sadness crossed her feature.

"I thought that you were the answer to what we've always wanted. I guess I was wrong. This is sad."

I took a huge breath.

"I didn't decide not to see him because of what he does – it's more that I don't think our worlds could ever be the same. I know that he has to have his reasons to have done the things he has done – It's been said that he had never killed an innocent person; that's what I've heard."

She stared at me for a solid minute as I fiddled with the edge of the magazine cover before she spoke.

And when she did, it made me question so many things.

"Are you afraid of him now?"

Am I?

I was afraid of him the first time I dreamt of him. For the rest of the nights that he had starred in my dreams, it was always the same scenario with little to no variation. In these dreams, I see more of him than what I had noticed from the previous night.

There was sadness in his eyes – a deep anguish and torture. And those were the same eyes I had first glimpsed upon when I nursed him back to life.

So, am I afraid of him?

"No. I am not afraid of him. I think more than feeling fear, I feel hope for him – that he will find his way. Hope that whatever anguish and sorrow he carries with him will finally leave."

"We all do."

When the girl said that, her eyes fired with a determination I had never seen before.

"What's your name?"

She smiled. "Alice."

I smiled back. "Well, Alice, it was great meeting you."

"I hope this isn't the last."

She offered her hand for me to shake, and when I did, she stood briefly to hug me.

With a smile, Alice left the shop, making me wonder if I would ever see the vibrant girl again.

I had decided to do a little grocery shopping before I returned home. There was a familiar feeling of sanctuary that I find whenever I do the mundane task of picking grocery items. It feels as if I'm in my element, and that I have at least some control over my life. It is numbing, and it makes me momentarily forget the talk I had with Alice and all that had happened the past few months.

I had been stuck in traffic and arrived home a little later than usual.

When I had reached my apartment, I was surprised to see Jacob outside my door waiting. He reeked of alcohol and seemed to act differently.

"Hey, Jacob, what are you doing here?" I greeted with a smile while cautiously eyeing him.

He turned his head towards me and I could see how intoxicated he was.

"Why can't you love me?" He said sounding a little slurred.

"Jacob, I thought we were over this and were friends?"

"Why do you still love him after what he's done? Why have you never loved me?"

Hearing him say those words made me realize that he was thinking about his mother.

"Jacob, I'm not your mother. I'm Bella."

He walked slightly unbalanced towards me until he was only a few inches away.

"Bella…"

"Yes," I answered.

He took a few breaths.

"You're just like her."

"What do you –"

And then he grabbed me forcefully and crashed his lips on mine….

* * *

**A/N: **Again, thank you to my amazing beta Fran and her superb editing prowess. (You know how betas are the greatest and they put a lot of effort on what they do, I think even as much as the authors do? Yeah, they're generous like that).

Enjoy!


	10. Chapter 10: Two Dark Men

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 10: TWO DARK MEN**

As Jacob forced his lips to mine, my eyes grew wide in shock and I momentarily froze. It took me a few moments to get my bearings, and when I finally did, he used his weight to slam me into the wall on the side.

Shouting in fright, I pushed him with all the strength I had, making him stumble backwards.

While he was down, I shakily searched for my keys in my bag, feeling an adrenaline rush course through me. It took me a few tries before I finally was able to get the key in the lock, allowing Jacob time to stand. I hastily got inside, but not in time to get the door shut.

"Bella, I'm sorry! Let me in!" He shouted on the other side as he pushed harder.

"Jacob, leave please, you're scaring me!"

My fright made me tear up, and my heart drummed in fear.

"BELLA!" Jacob got louder, sounding more mad then he was before. "LET ME IN!"

We had struggled for a few seconds before Jacob was able to wedge his foot between the door and its hinge. I caught a glimpse of his furious face, which made me inadvertently loosen my hold.

More scared than ever, I searched my apartment for any defense weapon that I could possibly throw at him. My hands were just a few inches from my lamp before Jacob got a hold of my foot making me stumble forward. I cried out in a mixture of pain and desperation. He hugged me from behind and made me turn so that I was lying on my back facing him while he was on top of me.

More tears fell from my eyes.

"Jacob, please, let me go! You're hurting me!" I shouted – my voice shaky from crying.

I tried hitting him with my hands and kicking, but he had a tight hold of my wrists.

"Why can't you love me like him? Why can't you accept me?"

He placed his mouth on my neck, kissing me there, as his hands roamed my body. I didn't even have the chance to feel repulsed by his putrid breath that reeked with alcohol. All I could do was to struggle to get away from him as more tears clouded my vision.

"HELP ME! PLEASE! GOD, HELP ME!" I cried, feeling helpless.

Then, all of a sudden, I was free.

I didn't see exactly what had happened – my eyes had been closed when Jacob's wet mouth started kissing my collarbone – but when I tried to sit up, I saw Jacob being punched by another man.

In the dim light, my eyes adjusted to see who had rescued me.

It was _him_.

Edward.

It was like watching a lion try to kill its prey.

Jacob stood no chance as he received punch after punch. I could hear angry groans from Edward, as well as the snapping sound whenever his fist met Jacob's face. It took me a few moments to move from my place, but when I approached them, what my eyes saw in Edward's face made me frightened more than ever.

It was in his eyes – a fury I have never seen before. It was as if he was consumed by it, and his every move was driven by his desire to crush Jacob.

His desire to _kill_ Jacob.

And I knew I needed to stop him.

"Edward, stop! He's not moving anymore! Stop! You're killing him!"

It was as though he was deaf as he continued to hit Jacob's already bloody face.

"Edward, please stop! I'm safe!"

He didn't even flinch, or halt his actions.

As a last resort, I cried out "EDWARD! PLEASE! I'M SCARED!"

Hearing me say that, Edward suddenly froze. However, his eyes didn't change their murderous look and I could clearly see how consumed he was with rage.

He was resolute – vindictive – in what his course would be.

However, that sudden halt was enough for me to try to make him stop.

"Edward, please, I'm all right. Please, stop. Don't kill him. Please." More tears fell from my eyes.

Edward turned his head to look at me as Jacob groaned.

"We have to leave," Edward said between gritted teeth. I immediately nodded, wiping the tears from my face.

However, he still didn't move from his place. Thinking of anything to make him move, I took a leap of faith to see how he would response if made myself appear to be afraid once again.

"Edward, I'm scared. Take me away from here, from the sight of him, please."

I didn't know why it worked, but hearing me say those words slightly diminished the look of murder in his eyes. Slowly, he stepped from Jacob's unmoving body and grasped my hand to help me stand.

Without another word, he led me outside.

As if running for our lives, Edward briskly tugged me to his waiting car – a sleek looking, expensive one. He didn't even say a word, just strapped me into the passenger seat, and then walked quickly around the car to the driver's seat.

In just a few seconds, we were already hitting the road.

With both of us in the car, the feeling was strangely déja vu with Rosalie, except Edward's driving was much faster.

In the dim light of the night, I could see his muscles straining as he clutched the steering wheel so hard I feel like it would snap between his hands. His face was still etched in fury.

He looked as though he would kill someone.

But oddly enough, I've never felt safer in my life than I did with him at this moment. The irony is not lost on me though.

"Are you okay?" I asked in a soft voice.

Of course, it was a stupid question that he didn't even try to answer.

"Thank you for saving me," I tried again to elicit a response from him.

He briefly looked at me, and I saw that I somehow was able to get through to him.

Gazing ahead, he said in a rough, yet hardly controlled voice, "I should have killed him."

"No, you shouldn't have."

He hit the steering wheel with his right fist and I surmised it was his way to release some of his rage.

"He fucking tried to rape you, Bella! I should have fucking killed the motherfucking bastard!"

"You did enough, Edward, you saved me. That's what matters." My voice was barely a whisper as I tried to calm him down.

"I could turn back now and still find the fucking asshole and kill him."

"If you do that, you'd leave me alone and scared. And I don't want to be alone," I said, hoping again that those words would work on him. And once more, for some mystifying reason, it did. He calmed down marginally.

"You need to distract me, please, so I won't turn around and put a bullet in his head."

Hearing the seriousness in his voice, I scrambled within my head to find something trivial to say to him, and all I could come up with was "Rosalie is gorgeous."

He was quiet so I started blubbering.

"When she kidnapped me, I thought the girl was crazy. Moreover, she was beautiful and just looking at her makes you feel like you're looking at an angel. And she ranted and used profanities towards you, and then suddenly laughed and got serious and… she kissed me, by the way, which was the first kiss I've ever had… "

"She kissed you?" He asked in an obvious change of tone – he seemed calmer this time.

"Yes."

"And it was your first?"

"Yes."

I saw his jaw set, as though he would have laughed at what I had said if he wasn't too mad.

"And Jessica, my co-worker, is secretly dating Mike Newton, my boss. And it was odd for me because I know that they are dating so why do they even try to keep it secret when it was obvious? Well, I guess it's not obvious to everybody but it was obvious to me.

And Alice is like a doll. The kind of doll you want to be best friends with; the kind I had as a child. But I had a limited time talking to her so it was a shame. She looked like the kind of person you want to be best friends with…"

For a solid thirty minutes, that's all I did.

I talked.

And Edward just listened, and little by little, his rage diminished.

We came to a stop at a private residence that looked more like a mansion than a house. I think we were still in Manhattan, but I couldn't be sure. I had never been to this area before. It was a quiet place for New York, and all the houses looked as though they belonged to important, wealthy people.

"Where are we?"

"My place," he answered, removing his seatbelt. He then got out of the car to open my door.

He pressed some buttons to open the gate, and when it did, he went back to his car to drive into the garage as I waited at the front door.

As he closed his gate, I marveled at the grandeur of his house.

It was big, and symmetrical, and made mostly of glass, with white as the predominant color.

It looked elegant.

It looked lonely.

Edward opened the front door with yet another code, and then gestured for me to come inside.

Once we were in, he clicked on the lights, and I was greeted with more elegance, sophistication, grandiose, and solitude.

His house reflected him: beautiful and melancholic.

"You can use one of the rooms upstairs."

I nodded, and followed him to the second floor.

Again, the color of white was dominant, and his furniture consisted of mostly black leather. He led me to the right-most wing of the floor, and opened the door.

"You can stay here."

I nodded again as I scanned the room.

It was designed in pastel colors, and it was very spacious. I could probably fit my entire apartment in just this one room.

I sat on the cream-colored bedspread, as Edward closed the door and came to sit at the nearby couch.

I could feel that his eyes were on me.

"You're very quiet. You haven't said much since we arrived."

I looked at him and I could see the curiosity in his voice was reflected ten times in his eyes.

"You have a very beautiful home…" I started, however I couldn't lie to him – not to him. "It just looks so lonely and abandoned. It really doesn't look like a home."

He nodded, slightly smiling the crooked smile. A look of sadness replaced his curiosity.

"I guess I'm not surprised that's your first observation. You're incredibly observant and can pierce through the truth so easily. Most people would just remark that the house is ostentatious, but you could aptly describe it in just a few words, in just a few minutes."

Edward sighed as he leaned his arms on his thighs.

"Why did you bring me here?"

The shadow of his former rage came back to his face.

"You know why."

"No. I mean, I'm curious why, of all the places, you brought me here. You could have just taken me to a hotel, or somewhere else. Why here? I just feel as though you don't usually bring strangers here."

He chuckled darkly.

"It is the safest place I could think of. Very few people know I live here. I guess it is kind of dangerous in a way, with no one knowing you're here."

I felt that there was a warning there somewhere, but I couldn't find it in me to feel afraid of him, not after what he did for me.

My next words surprised him.

"It is a safe place. Thank you for bringing me here."

He looked directly into my eyes, and again, surprise, curiosity and a little softness were all visible. However, he tried to deflect the conversation.

"Are you hungry?" He asked instead.

I smiled, as I shook my head no. "I just want to take a bath, if you don't mind. I feel… uncomfortable in my skin… after…" I trailed off, the events that had happened earlier flashed back to my mind.

I gripped the bed's mattress.

Edward seemed to sense my discomfort and tried to speak casually instead.

"This room has a private bath, but I don't know about your clothes…"

"Oh, uhm, can I borrow a shirt?"

He hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. "I'll just get something from my room."

I nodded and blushed as he stood to leave.

I was used to hand-me-down clothes from the orphanage, so sharing clothes wasn't new to me, but not a full-grown man's clothes. Somehow, it felt a little too intimate. However, it was that, or wearing my clothes again, and I didn't think I was ready for that, yet. Because of Jacob, I feel that those clothes were now tainted.

When Edward returned, he placed his neatly piled clothes at the top of the bed.

"I'll just leave you alone then. I have to shower as well."

"Thanks."

He nodded and turned to leave. But right when he was at the door, I spoke again, making him halt his steps to turn and look back at me.

"Come back in half an hour. We have to talk," I said looking him straight in the eyes. I could see that he knew what I wanted to talk about, and it wasn't about what had just happened. He nodded and shut the door.

Taking a bath proved a very liberating experience after the horrific events of the night. I felt as if I had washed off the grime and saliva that tainted my skin from Jacob.

I scrubbed every surface of my body and used the shampoo and conditioner a little bit more than usual. I briefly wondered why Edward had female smelling shampoo and soap, but then I realized that maybe I wasn't the first female to be here. It made me wonder if Rosalie or Alice, or someone else brought these. Somehow, the last thought made me feel vexed.

When I came out wrapped in a towel, I inspected the clothes Edward had left for me. There was a button-down shirt – the kind he was wearing – and black boy shorts. He very thoughtfully also placed boxer shorts and a sleeveless undershirt. I wore them all, blushing again at using the undergarments. I unrolled the towel to let my hair fall loose. I look decent, but I felt slightly uncomfortable not wearing a bra. Putting my hair down over me helps a little with my nerves.

Edward's boy shorts were too big, but luckily, I was able to tie them at the front to fit my thin waist. As for his button-down shirt, I reckon I could do nothing about its length, but I could roll up the sleeves.

When I looked in the bathroom mirror, I was surprised to see the girl reflected back at me. She didn't look like a lonely, naïve girl, or even the girl who had almost been raped by someone. Instead, she looked very much alive, with rosy cheeks and white complexion. And she even looked somewhat 'boyishly feminine' in the clothes she was wearing.

I never thought I would ever look as such. I never thought I'd use the words 'boyishly feminine' for myself. I didn't look like a training nun anymore. And quite frankly, I didn't feel like one anymore.

Edward came back almost exactly thirty minutes after he had left. By then I was trying to dry my wet hair with the towel.

He knocked at the door and I told him to come in. When he did, he stopped in his tracks and his eyes grew infinitesimally wider as he spotted me drying my hair.

I saw him swallow, and then he cleared his throat.

_I wondered what that reaction was._

He came to sit at his previous place on the couch, where I could clearly see the changes in his appearance.

His hair was wet and unruly, and he was wearing a fitted-black shirt and jeans. Seeing him wear something so casual and yet manages to look better than the movie star I have recently glimpsed in some movie trailer while passing the mall makes me wonder if he would ever look bad in anything.

It seems like the answer would be never.

For a guy, he smells incredibly good, too – I could detect soap and shampoo from his recent shower, but there was also mint, and a unique manly smell that I could only associate with him...

"I'm still waiting for it," he suddenly said, making me snap out of my stupor.

"W-waiting for what?"

"For you to go into shock. You are weirdly calm for someone who had recently been assaulted."

"I feel oddly safe around you."

His eyes once again showed the softness that I was growing to love.

He sighed.

"So, we need to talk."

I nodded. "Yes, we need to talk."

* * *

**A/N:** To Fran and her editing skills, you're always great. Thank you for this and for putting up with my compulsiveness.

And as I've promised before that I would post a chapter as soon as I could, I've posted two chapters today (this and chapter 9). I hope I made you at least smile.

Thank you all for your time!


	11. Chapter 11: Living in a Dream

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 11: LIVING IN A DREAM**

"Yes. We can't just always try to spy on each other. We need to talk," I said in a slightly teasing tone, hoping to lighten up the mood before we begin.

Edward nodded in understanding and gestured for me to start with the questions.

"First and foremost, what were you doing in my apartment before knocking out Jacob with your punches?"

It seemed like the earlier event was still not a joking matter to him, as Edward's face turned serious from what I had said.

"I spoke with Alice before I came to your place – in truth, it was the reason that I came to your place."

I expected as much.

"Has she… told you?"

"She did, actually. And she was somehow very jubilant whilst she was telling me," he said with a slight curve of his mouth. At least this he found funny.

"So you know that I know."

"Yes."

"About… your occupation," I said, hesitating.

He chuckled sardonically.

"I won't necessarily call killing people and earning millions from it an occupation."

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"And you're the one responsible for the auction."

He looked at me as if trying to gage my reactions as he said "Yes."

"But you don't kill civilians."

Still sardonically smiling, he rhetorically asked, "And that justifies what I do?"

"You must have a reason for doing it. I know you're good, Edward, and I know you're anguished."

He looked at me very cynically.

"That's bullshit and you know it. I'm not good, Bella. How many times do I have to tell you that? I kill people for a living. You should know first-hand that I'm breaking an important cardinal law of your religion; you are a devote Catholic. Socially, morally, and even fucking spiritually, I am trash."

I shook my head vehemently.

"I don't believe that. Just a second ago, you were trying to save me. If you aren't a good person as you say, then you wouldn't do that – help me like that. You would have just let me be raped."

Somehow, the word I used brought a dangerous look to his face, making him scornful and seethe with rage when he spat his next words.

"And that's the reason why you told Alice you wouldn't see me again? Because you believe, I'm 'good'? Yes, that's fucking believable Bella."

I wanted to cry, but I controlled my emotions lest he thinks I am weak.

"I don't just _believe_you are a good man, I _know_ you are. I can see it in the softness of your eyes. I can see it in the way you look at me. And yes, I told Alice I never wanted to see you again. But do you know why I said that? Because I thought we lived in two different worlds that should never cross. But every day – every single day – I wake up and the first thought I have is of you. I dream of you, Edward, almost every night. I feel empty that I can never see you again. It's very infuriating – I've never dealt with these feelings before. And they're very confusing. I don't know what to make of them.

I get angry, I snap at people, and all because I long to see you. I miss you. And it is very, _very_ stupid of me to do so.

I pray for you every single day.

I pray that you will be saved.

You never leave my thoughts.

Now tell me, do I sound like I truly meant what I said to Alice? Do I sound like I don't want to see you anymore?"

He was speechless after that. And even though I vowed not to cry, somehow, letting my emotions out like that made my eyes tear up. I hastily wiped my tears as my sobbing gets a little out of control.

We were like that for a few while – him speechless and me sobbing – until Edward finally spoke.

"This is wrong. I never meant for it to be like this," he said in a whispery voice and shocked eyes.

"What is? T-that I c-care for you?" My crying made it hard for me to speak.

"That I have this strong an effect to you. You shouldn't feel like this towards me."

I wiped my eyes from all my tears.

"Well, I do. And you can't do anything about it. And I just can't order my feelings to go away. I care about you. And I don't expect for you to care for me as well – just let me feel that way towards you."

He lifted his hand as though he was going to wipe my tears away, but halfway through he made a fist and put down his hand instead.

"I don't deserve this, Bella. I don't deserve your kindness."

"Everybody deserves kindness. Everybody deserves someone who will care for them. Everybody deserves a second chance; a shot at a better life."

We were quiet for a few moments, absorbing what was happening between us.

Suddenly, he said "It's late. You should go to sleep."

With that, Edward rose to leave.

However, I didn't know what came to me, but I suddenly grabbed the edge of his shirt, making him halt his steps and turn around to face me.

"Don't leave me – please," I said in a pathetic, beseeching voice I've never used before.

We stared at each other for what seemed like a lifetime, and I knew how my eyes were pleading for him to stay.

Finally, with a sigh, he nodded.

I removed my clutching of his shirt and scooted at the right side of the bed for him to occupy the left. He hesitated at first, but with my nod, he eventually sat beside me.

Together, we lay side by side. I pulled the mattress on top of us and we lay there like that for a minute, neither of us speaking.

For others, it probably would look like an inappropriate thing to do. I am a novice nun, and he is a murderer. And I wasn't so naïve as not to know that a full-grown man and woman do not share a bed like this without expecting something to happen. But somehow, it felt right to me. Normal. As though we were meant to lie together like this. And he never initiated anything, making me more comfortable to be with him.

I could feel the beating of his heart, and maybe it was my wistful thinking but somehow, I feel as though it was in sync with mine.

I should have felt nervous or awkward, but I didn't – I just feel comfortable with him around.

Too soon, I was already yawning.

"You should sleep," he said and turned to face my side.

I turned too, making our faces only inches apart. It was a heady feeling – to be this close to someone as beautiful as him.

"I wanted to talk more."

His usually guarded features softened, and he made a small smile.

"I've never met someone as stubborn as you. Even you try to fight your sleep."

I smiled a full smile.

"I've never been stubborn before. I was always very obedient. I guess people just change."

Suddenly, hesitantly, he touched the stray lock of my hair to place it beneath my ear.

It felt nice when he did that.

"Tell me more about yourself, about your childhood," he asked. I smiled again.

"I was raised in an orphanage. I never knew who my parents were. Some say they died when I was very young. Some say they abandoned me. I truly didn't know who to believe.

I grew up in the streets, asking for alms, and sometimes, I would take things like a crook. I never really took something valuable – I just mostly take food. I remember that I was always hungry, and that I resent all the people around me because they just don't care. But I did take one valuable thing; I once took this doll from a shop. It has these beautiful, long lashes and the realest of eyes I've ever seen from a doll. I don't remember much from those days, just the hunger, and resentment, and the sometimes thieving, but I do remember that doll very well. I was always so envious of the other girls when I see them pass by with their parents and all their beautiful toys that I wanted to have. And this doll was the one for me."

"What happened when you took it?"

I smiled more as I recapitulate this particular story.

"Well, I was able to run a few meters before the store owner, and his staff, got a hold of me. I probably should add that I looked like a boy at that time – dressed in pants and shirts and all the holes and grime you can find, and my hair was very short because I always had lice so I would cut my hair – and when they seized me, they beat me up."

A look of sympathy crossed Edward's features.

"I'm sorry," he said. I smiled wider.

"Don't be. It was fundamental to how I grew up.

So, they beat me up, and because I tried to fight back, the doll that I was holding got mixed in the fray. Next thing I knew, her head was already decapitated, and her limbs were broken.

I at least got her after that."

The look of sadness still didn't leave Edward's face though.

"Do you still have her?"

"Oh, no. I gave her to my best friend when I got to the orphanage."

At least, at this part, he finally smiled.

"How did you get to the orphanage?" he says as he absentmindedly strokes my hair. It felt good when he does this.

"I was five when I got there. Mother Emilia, our Mother Superior, saw me lurking in the streets. She has told me when I grew up that at that time, my eyes looked like I would eat her alive from my hunger, so she had no other choice but to take me with her. I don't remember much, actually, but I just remember that when she offered her hand to me that day, with the piece of bread she was holding, I felt like I was saved – like an angel was sent to help me. She became a mother to me at the orphanage."

"How did you meet your best friend there?"

I laughed at this, remembering how just before I left Forks, I have told this very story to one of the girls there who was scared of meeting other people.

"It was funny, actually."

"Well, tell me."

"So, when I came to the orphanage, my initial inclination was to hate everybody else, and feel afraid of them at the same time. And I repeat – I don't remember much from my time at the streets – but I do remember that I carried that hatred with me when I moved to Forks, Washington.

I wasn't talking to anybody – I didn't see the use of talking to anyone. It went like that for a week.

And then one night, while I was trying to sneak out to the kitchen – and I don't exactly know why I was going there, maybe I was hoping to steal food? – I knocked out this lamp to one of the blanket there. Panicking, I went back to my bed in a hurry, pretending to sleep. So the fire got huge, and I almost burned the room, and I was pretending to sleep. The nuns and elders awoke from their sleep to put out the fire.

The next day, they all asked us to come inside the church. There, they relayed the story of what happened that night, and asked for the perpetrator to come forward.

I was so guilty I was sweating heavily. I was very afraid to tell them it was me, fearing they would send me out to the streets again if they learned what I did.

So when they were planning to punish us all, suddenly, this girl – Angela Webber – who was a few years older than me told the elders it was she who did it because she wanted to sneak out to the grounds to play by herself.

She got punished because of that – she was not allowed to go out our quarter for three days.

The next day, I confronted her and confessed it was me who actually did it. To my surprise, she told me that she knew it was me. So I asked why she did it. And then she told me, in her exact words, 'Now you talk. If I didn't do it I'm afraid your saliva will rot by not talking to anyone.' And starting from that day, she became my best friend."

By the end of my story, Edward was showing me a huge smile. It momentarily dazzled me for he looked so carefree, so handsome when he smiles that way.

"That was a great story."

"It sure is."

Right at that time, I yawned loudly, and finally felt tired from the roller coaster of emotions and events that happened to me that day.

"You should sleep," he said.

I nodded a little groggily.

"Yes, I will. I think I'm tired now."

I closed my eyes as my breathing evened out. It only took me a few moments to start my dreaming process – I was that comfortable around him.

Right when I was about to dream though, I heard Edward speak.

He said "Thank you, Bella, for giving me a shred of hope."

* * *

I expected to wake up with a smile on my face the next morning. However, that was not how I found myself on the first day of my stay at Edward's place.

When my eyes fluttered open, the first thing I saw was my tangled body with Edward. Somehow, I ended up tucked on the crook of Edward's arms as I hugged his chest. It felt good – even blissful – to be with him like this. And certainly should have made me smile.

But I didn't smile. Because as I remember my dream that night, I knew there was something missing between us, and I so badly wanted it to happen that it left me craving and empty.

I dreamt that I was kissing Edward.

It was a really, _really_ good dream.

We were here, at this very bed, and it was yesterday night. And in my dream, right when I was about to sleep, he kissed my lips.

That felt so good that I started kissing him back. And I started hugging him, as he got closer to me. And I started twining my hands on his hair as he roamed his hand on my waist.

And I didn't feel sinful. I didn't feel like how I felt with Jacob at all. I felt complete, like I should be doing that with him. Like I should be kissing him.

And so, it left me with sadness that it ever has to end and that I would wake up.

As Edward sleeps peacefully beside me, I got a little erect to see his face. He looked so peaceful sleeping – all the anguish, rage, self-doubt, cynicism from yesterday were gone. And he sleeps so peacefully it was as though I was watching an angel in bed.

I inspected his face more, getting curious how his every feature would look like up close.

I lingered at his mouth.

He didn't have the chapped lips like the other guys, nor the wet, disgusting one from Jacob. His lips look soft and thin. And beautiful, like the rest of him. And his jaw looked so pronounce, making his mouth that more beautiful…

Slowly, carefully, I lifted my right hand to touch his lips, and Edward opened his eyes.

"Oh!" I exclaimed as I was startled to have been caught inspecting him.

I scrambled away from him, and in my scurry, I hit the edge of the bed and I fell to the floor.

I landed with a loud "oomph", hitting my butt.

"Ow!" I shouted in pain.

When I looked up, Edward was staring at me in surprise, seated at the bed, and biting his lips. Embarrassed, I felt my face heat up, and I was sure I was blushing a furious red.

"Oh my, this is embarrassing," I said in terror, hiding my face in the process.

Why can't I just die right now?

Then suddenly, I heard him chuckle. Not wanting to miss his reaction, I removed my hands from my face. When I looked up, Edward's chuckles turned to full-fledged laughing.

Even though he was laughing _at _me, I couldn't find it in me to get mad. He just looked so carefree – gone are the seriousness that emanated from him yesterday night. It was heart-warming to see him so happy.

When his laughter was about to die down, I rose from the floor, pretending to sound mad at his reaction.

"Go ahead. Laugh at me as long as you want. I'll be making some very delicious breakfast and you will miss out on it because you were laughing at me."

"I'm sorry Bella," he said between his laughs. "I just didn't expect to be entertained this early in the morning. You should have seen your face – it was priceless."

I crossed my arms in an irritated gesture.

"Well, if you would prefer to continue laughing there, I am sorry but I will lock you in this room as I devour all the food from your kitchen."

He stopped laughing but still had the smile on his face as he said "All right, I'm rising up. It was just very amusing – exhibit A."

I tried to stay mad but it just didn't work. A few chuckles did escape me. He was just so fun to look at.

"And you have a nice hair," he says as he passed by me, tugging my said hair in the process. Alarmed, I ran towards the bathroom to immediately look for a mirror. Once there, I finally saw what he meant. My hair looked like a combination of a bird's nest and a haystack.

"Urggh!" I groaned in frustration, dreading how he has seen me in such a state. I heard him chuckle again from the room.

But it confuses me, this suddenly feeling of vanity. When have I ever cared about what I looked like to someone else? Why do I have this feeling of wanting to always look my best in front of him? It made me wonder what I am truly experiencing around him.

Once I was decent and my hair was tied in a messy but primmer bun on my head, and have washed my face and rinsed my mouth, I got down to the kitchen to find Edward already finished preparing our breakfast. He managed to scramble two eggs, cook strips of bacons, prepare two loaves of sandwiches, and was pouring milk to one of the two glasses – one was already full – in the short time that I was gone.

"Wow, you work so fast," I announced as I approached him.

He looked up to me as he set his milk carton on the table.

"Being fast is second nature to me."

What he said both reminded us of his true work. It made us quiet for a moment, and reminded us of the real life outside his house.

I cleared my throat to dispel the awkwardness.

"I told you I would cook for us. And you beat me to it."

"You could cook tomorrow."

Confused, I looked at him as I said "Tomorrow? I can't be here tomorrow, Edward. I will be at my apartment."

Anger immediately crossed his features with what I've said.

"You can't go back there," he said, gritting his teeth. It made me irked a little.

"Yes, I can. I live there. In case you forgot, I have an apartment there Edward."

What was that word he called me again? Right. Stubborn.

"What if the fucking dog comes back? What if he tries to make amends to you, and because you're forgiving, you will give him another chance? Bella, that asshole is an obnoxious, crazy piece-of-shit. He will do that to you again. I know the likes of him, Bella, he's used to getting what he wants. He won't stop until he gets a hold of you."

And again, Edward was spot on, astonishing me at how accurate he is at reading people. Maybe it comes with what he does.

"I will forgive him, Edward, eventually, in the same manner that I try to overlook what you do to get money."

I knew I hit a mark at him – he looked a little hurt. But again, I do not want to lie to him.

"But not right now," I continued. "It's too fresh. And I want you to know that I will forgive him. But Edward, Jacob has already broken his trust on me. I can't keep him as a friend anymore. Please, at least trust me on this – I will not let Jacob touch me nor speak to me the way he did, ever again."

He seemed to understand me, but it was not enough for him. He shook his head as he pushes his point.

"I trust you, Bella. But I don't trust that dog. And you're already associated with me, however hard we try to stay away from each other. I can protect you better when you're near me. Not just from Jacob, but from everyone else."

He seemed so adamant about it. He didn't even raise his voice when he said those words – he merely tried to speak softly to make me realize what he meant, and through his eyes, I can see that he was pleading.

I sighed.

"I will pay you rent."

He shook his head. "I earn millions and I never spend them. Let me take care of everything."

"No. I wouldn't feel well knowing where the money you will use for me comes from. Let me pay you."

Again, what I said brought a hurt in his eyes. And it in turn broke my heart seeing that I hurt him, no matter how small it was.

I walked nearer to him to hold his hands.

"I'm sorry, but it's the truth. I accept your offer for me to stay here, but please, let me pay my rent. If it would put your mind ease, I will pay you only the amount I pay at my old apartment, which to be honest is not enough to cover as rent for your beautiful house."

He nodded, finally agreeing.

"Alright. We'll take all your belongings later after your shift."

And of course, it wasn't only Jacob who knows everything about me. It didn't surprise me to learn that Edward knows my schedule as well. But for some reason, it didn't make me mad like how I felt with Jacob.

"Okay."

"And I will drive you to and from work."

"What?"

"Please, Bella. It would put another of that ease of mind to me."

"But your gas is expensive."

"And I have a lot of money that I don't spend."

I sighed, relenting again.

"You did spend some of them – you bid me for a million just for a dance, remember? And this house and your car must have cost a fortune."

"Bidding for you was the only time I used my money. This house and my car were given to me."

Given to him? By whom? His boss? Does he answer to someone?

"Alright," I said, trying to ignore my curiosity, "let's eat, silent millionaire."

He smiled, and we proceeded to take our seats so we could dine for our breakfast together.

I didn't exactly know what the relationship I have with Edward is – it didn't feel like we were simply friends. But I tried not to dwell on it. Whatever we have was good for now, and I don't want to think of what could happen tomorrow.

At least for a day, I am simply Bella and he is just Edward, and not a novice nun and a murderer. We were only two people enjoying the company of each other for breakfast.

For the first time since I got to New York, or probably even my life, I felt utterly and completely happy. And for now, that's what matters most.


	12. Chapter 12: Realizations and New Friends

**A/N:** Sorry. This is not an update. But, I just want to say that there's an outtake for Chapter 11. Visit my profile if you want to read it. It's in EPOV. Thanks!

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**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 12: REALIZATIONS AND NEW FRIENDS**

"When a guy comes at you, the first thing you do is you kick him in his groin. No matter how big or strong the person is he would find it hard to fight back if you hit him in that spot. After that, gouge him through his eyes with your fingers. Then run."

"What if he comes at me from behind?"

"Let him hug at you at first then cross your arms like this," he shows me how to cross my arms in front of my chest. "Then when you find a chance, slip below him and then kick him in his groin."

"So it's all about the groin region."

"Yes. That's the spot where men are the weakest."

"All right," I nodded and breathed.

We were outside my workplace, and because of Edward's maniac driving, I am almost an hour early for work. Since we have an extra hour, we decided to stay in his car while he teaches me how to defend myself in case I'm ever assaulted again

"The key element is surprise. Surprise plus calm. You should always remain calm."

"Surprise plus calm. Got it."

He looks through his window at my workplace then returns his gaze at me.

"I still think I should come and stay with you in there. I have a feeling the dog will come back."

I shook my head.

"That's unnecessary. I can handle this. Starbucks is a public place – I don't think he will do anything to harm me in front of all the people.

Besides, I think you wouldn't be able to control yourself if you saw him. You're angrier towards him than I am."

He huffed.

"Fine. But I will fetch you after your shift."

"Yes sir," I made a show of salute mocking him.

He didn't seem amused.

"Oh, come on, lighten up. It's too early in the morning for you to be so grumpy."

His lips twitched on the edges, and I knew he was trying to fight a smile.

I chuckled.

"You know," he started, looking at me amusedly, "you've changed a lot since I met you. You were so serious at first and naïve. And also so quiet. But now I feel like you've grown or something."

My smile grew.

"Well, I could say the same to you. You were never talkative that first week, only serious, and quiet. And now you're laughing and talking…"

Just then, his phone rang and he picked it up. He looked at me apologetically and I smiled to show him that I understand. He turned his head as he answered.

"Hello?"

While Edward was on the phone, I let my eyes scan what he was wearing.

He wore his usual blue, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and some dark, fitted jeans, and leather shoes. And for some reason, he chose to wear a cap. While I, on the other hand, had to wear my shirt, jeans and boots that I wore the day before, as Edward had no clothes that could actually fit me.

He hung up with a smile.

"That was Emmett, Rosalie's boyfriend, and my friend, too."

"Oh," I uttered, surprised that he's relaying this to me.

"They were planning to drop by the house later for dinner, along with Alice. And according to him, the girls were dying to meet you again. Are you okay with that?"

I smiled, finding the idea appealing. "That would be great. I'd love to cook for them."

"You don't have to, but they'd love that."

A moment passed with neither of us speaking.

"So, I should go …" I hesitated, not really feeling like going. Being with Edward makes me want to attach myself to him, or if I could, glue myself to him. And it makes me want to prolong every moment we share.

He nodded. "Yes."

"Thank you for the ride."

"You're welcome. This is nothing compared to you saving my life."

"Well, you also saved my life yesterday, so I guess we're even."

He smiled and I exhaled.

"All right, I really should be going," I said, unstrapping my seatbelt.

Edward got out on his side, and the next thing I knew, he was already opening the door for me.

"Oh my, you're really fast."

I hopped out and he closed the door behind me.

"See you later," I said. He nodded.

There was a moment – that one second – where I felt as if we should be doing something. I don't know what it was, but our eyes met, and I had a yearning to do something with him. He seemed to sense this as well as he had a hard time breathing, like me.

He looked down at my lips, and that's when it clicked for me.

This feeling and yearning.

I wanted to kiss him.

But am I allowed to do that?

"Bye," I breathed, looking at his lips as well.

He swallowed.

"Bye," he said in the same breathy tone.

I inhaled loudly, and then I took a step back from him, finally putting a stop to the hypnotic spell we were under.

I briefly smiled, still out of breath, and he returned my smile with the same hard breathing, before I turned around to walk inside the café.

I was able to glance at him through the glass windows as he made a reverse on his car and finally left.

"Who was that cutie?"

I jumped upon Jessica's question.

"Jeez, you startled me."

Jessica chuckled. "I wonder why you're always surrounded by hotties. Care to share a little secret how to land one?"

"Jessica, you already have Mike." She gestured for me to be quiet. I smiled. "And E-Anthony is just a friend."

"Yeah, right, that guy totally has the hots for you, and you say he's 'just' a friend."

I walked towards our locker as Jessica followed me.

"Well, he's not a typical friend, but I don't know what he is to me."

"Oh, right, that stage. The confusing stage before one of you will find the balls to finally ask the other out."

"Jessica!" I reprimanded in a hushed-shouting tone, scandalized by the words she used.

"What? It's true. That guy wouldn't drive you to work like that, and you wouldn't let yourself be driven by him if you don't have the hots for each other. And I saw that lingering staring contest between you two before you got here – don't deny that there was something there my friend. And come on, that guy is sex on legs! I love Mike and all, but I would totally do that Anthony guy if I have a chance."

I winced at her choice of words.

"Anthony is… different. And he doesn't like me like that. He shouldn't. He lives in a different world," I said as I took out my apron from my locker and tied it around my waist.

"What, he's an alien or something?"

I didn't respond so she continued speaking.

"Let me guess: he's really rich like your Jacob, but unlike your Jacob, you find Anthony attractive. However, you don't _want_ to know what to do because here he is, this really rich, hot guy, and you are just this worker at some coffee shop."

I sighed, suddenly feeling tired.

"I hope it's that easy. I really hope I'm just insecure because he's rich, and good-looking. But it's more than that."

Jessica doesn't know that I am a novice nun and that _Anthony_ is actually a hired killer. She doesn't know that I shouldn't fall for anyone at all, more so someone like him.

And _if_ she knew, I'm sure she would agree that I really didn't see this every happening when I came to New York … and she'd probably run for the hills.

"It's always more than that, Bella. Love is complicated. Look at me: I'm in love with my boss. And it made me insecure, and immature, and to feel totally stupid. But remember what you told me before? About how I should tell Mike what I feel? How I would not be able to take it if he dates someone else? Maybe you should take your own advice."

When Jessica phrased it like that, it seems that the gap between Edward and me isn't really that wide or diverse. Maybe I could cross the line that divides us if I could only find the strength to do so.

I hope it was that easy.

Suddenly, one of the words she had said struck me.

"'Love'? You think I love him?"

Confused at my reaction, she asked, "Don't you?"

_Do I?_

_Is that what I was feeling? _

_Am I in love with Edward_?

_Am I in love with a Murderer?_

It took me a few moments of silence as I contemplated what Jessica has just said, but I couldn't come up with a definitive answer.

Isn't love supposed to be easy?

Sweet?

Romantic?

Isn't it supposed to move mountains?

Isn't it supposed to be pure, and brave, and selfless, and forgiving?

But this feeling I have – it's contrary to all those things.

What I feel for Edward complicates everything between us.

It isn't easy, as we are both on extreme opposite sides of the spectrum.

And it's confusing.

It could not move mountains:

I couldn't even begin to think how I would help him, nor how I would try to stop him from doing what he's doing.

It isn't sweet, or romantic.

More so I feel intoxicated by him; as though I want to spend all my days with him. And though what we had this morning and last night was brief, like the calm before the storm, I know we will wake up from our dream and reality will come knocking. And then, we will realize that I have my obligations, and these all contradict what he does.

And if love is supposed to be pure, why do I have a yearning for him; as though it would feel great to put my lips on his, and wrap my arms, body, and my all around him?

This is…

This is desire; one of the instigations of sins my religion cautions us all. They say it would drive us to commit sinful acts.

If love is pure, why do I desire Edward?

Love is brave.

Love is selfless.

Love is forgiving.

But in the one day that I've spent with him, I've been my weakest, most scared, most pathetic, and most needy self. I've asked him to stay with me, and demanded that he not leave me. How is that selfless? How is that brave? And I couldn't find it in me to be forgiving – no, not with Jacob. Not yet. Isn't love supposed to purify this anger I have towards Jacob allowing me to forgive him right away?

If all the teachings I know about love contradict all that I feel towards Edward, then how can it be love?

"Bella, are you alright?"

I awaken from my stupor to see Jessica shaking my shoulders a little.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Are you sure? I feel like I kinda lost you there for a moment."

"I'm okay, thanks," I said, still floored by my realization.

"All right, let's go to the counter then," she says still looking confused.

I nodded and walked with her towards our station.

_Am I in love with Edward?_

Jacob didn't show up or try to call me the whole day, and for that, I was grateful. I hadn't even decided yet how I would react if I would see him again. His absence allows me more time to delay my decision.

Edward was on time when he fetched me from work. We made a stop at the grocery store as I insisted on buying the food for our dinner. I was planning to barbecue with his friends and to try my cooking skills with some seafood. We also made a stop at my apartment for me to pack my belongings. I don't own many clothes so they all fit into the luggage I used when I got to New York. But before we came inside my room, the assault that had happened to me the night before was brought back to the forefront by the scattered grocery items that we passed in the hall. I asked Edward to give me a few minutes to clean the mess, and to salvage the items that I could still use.

He didn't understand why I just didn't throw all of it into the garbage. I explained to him how I grew up in an orphanage run by a convent of nuns. How we were used to donated goods and hand-me-down clothes. How I can't waste these blessings from God knowing how many kids would beg all day just to have them. That silenced him, allowing me to complete my task.

When we got back to his 'dwelling place', I headed straight to the kitchen and quickly arranged the ingredients we bought from the store and placed my salvaged items in his pantry.

I then remembered that I should have put my luggage in my room, but when I looked at the place I had left it, it was already gone and so was Edward. I assumed that he brought it upstairs and that made me smile.

Edward seemed to be more than relieved when our company arrived. I guessed it was because he felt useless and bored waiting in the living room for me to finish cooking. He did ask me twice if he could help with anything, and I pointed to the jars that I needed which have to be opened. As he settled to do his only task, I did hear him mumble "A man's only job in the kitchen. I scrambled eggs for breakfast, but no, ma'am, real cooking does not involve frying." It made me laugh, which earned me a glare from him. I tried to wash away the smile from my face, but I did giggle a few more times. After finishing his task, I shooed him away from the kitchen, and a few minutes later, heard the television's low audio.

Dinner with Emmett, Rosalie, and Alice was a fun event. At first, I felt awkward around them and a bit jittery to meet them, but that was immediately wiped out when they all gave me warm smiles and greetings.

The first to approach me was Alice, smiling hugely and hugging me tightly as she whispered, "I knew that we were gonna be great friends."

Next was Rosalie. I was a little unsettled when I faced her, but she quickly dispelled my anxieties when she laughed at me and hugged me loosely. She then said in a singsong voice, "I kissed a girl…" With my startled expression, she laughed again and said "Come on, I knew you liked it, too. And no worries – I'm not really into that..." She winked at me and I finally was able to release a few chuckles.

When I met Emmett, my immediate reaction was to cringe at his huge frame. He was very tall – as tall as Edward – and was muscled. Whereas Edward was lean and lanky, but still well built, he was very bulky and looked like a weightlifter.

However, as he smiled at me with amused eyes, a set of deep dimples graced his face, and I was finally able to feel calmer towards him.

"So, you're the one that got Edward's panties in a bunch?" he said and laughed loudly as Rosalie and Alice sniggered. Edward just glared at him. Upon seeing my clueless expression, he stopped laughing to give me a tight hug. It was warm, and it made me smile.

We settled at Edward's patio for the barbecue as I assembled the seafood I had cooked. Emmett had brought some beers, offering me first. But before I could refuse him, Edward beat me to it by telling him that I don't drink alcohol, which surprised both Emmett and me. Emmett because I don't drink, and me, because, well, I'm just surprised Edward knew that. But then again, I suspected as much when he didn't offer me any at the auction. And since I told him a little about my childhood, I guess it wouldn't take a genius to know I am not allowed to drink. But still, him knowing and remembering surprises me a little.

They all seemed to like the food that I offered, and all too soon, jokes and stories flowed freely amongst us. I mostly just listened – content at my place near the grill as Alice laughed quietly, from her lounge chair. Rosalie and Emmett sat in one recliner, and Edward, smiling, was seated in a chair against the wall. Emmett kept telling jokes and funny stories, and Rosalie would sometimes take part by telling equally hilarious tales with animated gestures and delivery. I could clearly see how they complemented each other.

As our laughter died down to yet another unrealistic tale of Rosalie, she glanced towards me and said with a smile "So, Bella, tell us a bit about yourself."

Their focus shifted towards me, waiting for me to answer.

I bit on my lip saying "well, what do you want to know?"

"How about from the beginning: your full name and where you grew up?"

I hesitated before answering: "I'm Isabella Marie Swan, but I prefer Bella. I am an orphan. At age five, I was brought to an orphanage in Forks, Washington, and left under the supervision of a congregation of nuns."

After I've said that, Emmett immediately burst into laughter which made us focus on him.

"Wow, dude, you're sleeping with a nun!" He teased, looking at Edward.

Nobody found it funny and I had butterflies in my stomach because of what he said. Because although he meant it as a joke, he didn't know how close it was to the truth.

"I'm not a nun." A novice nun though.

"But still," Emmett continued, "I didn't know Edward's tastes veer on the religious side. I thought he only calls God if he was getting laid."

"Emmett," cautioned Edward with a sharp glare. The two girls were silent. Emmett held up his hands as if to back away.

"Sorry, dude, I'm just surprised, is all. I mean, she's the first girl from the outside you allow in your life, and she's, I don't know, so different from us." He then looked at me to say, "No offense Bella, and I like you, I'm just surprised with Edward's choice."

I meekly smiled as a gesture that said I forgive him.

"She's just staying here, Emmett. I'm making her stay here to keep her safe and nothing more is going on."

He looked confused with what Edward had said.

"So, you two don't… do it?"

Edward shook his head, still glaring, and it was my turn to get confused.

Do what?

"Wow. Dude, just, wow."

His eyes grew wide in awe.

Rosalie spoke then.

"This must be a record; one night, you two alone here and nothing happened?"

"We did sleep together," I said, thoroughly confused. It made both Rosalie and Emmett laugh loudly and Alice smile.

"I knew it!" Emmett declared. Edward glared once again and Rosalie hit Emmett on the head.

"No you don't shithead. She said they did _sleep_ together, not _slept_ together. Like old people, sleeping in a room playing mahjong or some shit. Didn't you hear Bella say she grew up in a convent? And she doesn't even drink, for Christ's sake. She doesn't know what 'sleep together' means."

"Oh," Emmett mumbled then laughed louder.

"Wow, dude, you got yourself a virgin!"

"Emmett, stop it." Edward said. "Stop embarrassing Bella like that."

I was not embarrassed.

Not at all.

Because I didn't understand anything they said.

"Come here, little sister," Emmett suddenly said to me, but instead of me walking towards him, he came towards me and then hugged me tightly, making it hard for me to breathe.

"Can't… breathe…" I tried to say, and then he set me down with a chuckle.

"Welcome to the gang, Bella. You're cool, so you got in easily."

What just happened?

I looked at Alice smiling amusedly at us.

Then at Edward looking as though he wanted to bolt from the room. Lastly, Emmett with his set of dimples, and Rosalie drinking her beer with a smile.

And although I didn't understand what had happened, I felt as if I'd gained new, close friends – criminals, but with warm hearts.

All three decided to stay for the night, since it was late, and no one was sober enough to drive.

I was washing the plates when Alice approached me.

"Do you need help?" she asked me with a smile. I scooted a little to the left so she could stand next to me in front of the sink.

"How about you'll dry?"

"Sure."

She got a towel and we did the task in companionable silence.

"You must have been surprised to find that we're a bunch of normal people," she said without warning, breaking the silence.

"Yes, I'll admit I didn't expect you to be so friendly like that. Edward seems to be too serious, so I thought you all were."

"Oh, that's the serious Edward to you? If only you knew how he was before."

That piqued my interest.

"How was he before?"

"Definitely not like how he was earlier. I've never seen him so happy. I think today's the only time that I got to see him laugh."

"He's that serious, huh?"

"I think you bring out his true nature, giving him a chance to live and not merely exist. I saw how he watched you, Bella …"

I doubted that I was the reason for his apparent change in demeanor. But if so, that's surprisingly touching.

"Alice, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she answered immediately, looking intrigued.

"It's… kind of hard to ask."

She chuckled.

"Out with it, young lady, there's nothing too surprising for me to hear."

I chuckled before voicing my question.

"Edward doesn't kill innocent people, right?"

Understanding dawned on her eyes.

"Ah, I see. You wanted to understand how he came into this life."

I nodded, a bit embarrassed.

"Well, I can tell you for a fact that Edward, or Anthony, is not your typical assassin. He has his reasons for choosing to do this. And no, he doesn't kill innocents, but really, what does innocent truly entail? Say a corrupt official – that's innocent for most people. He lies, pretends he's doing the community well, cheats on his wife with a bunch of whores, got his position by buying votes, and is secretly stealing their money. But still, because no one can prove he is guilty, in the eyes of society he's a saint."

"What are you trying to say?"

"All I'm trying to say is all of us are guilty and sinful in some ways. And instead of saying Edward's not killing the innocents I'd like to say he's only targeting the guilty ones. But not for the reasons I've mentioned, no. I don't actually know his story but from what I've heard from Rosalie, he has a dark past that drives him to do what he does."

I expected as much. I knew Edward didn't just think of suddenly taking lives away only to earn money. It wasn't what I read from his eyes. And he even said so himself, that he barely touches the money he earns.

But what big enough reason is there to drive an anguished soul to take away other people's lives?

"Can't he try to stop?"

A sad smile graced Alice's lips.

"It's not that easy, Bella. I told you he wasn't living before – he merely existed. It would have been easier for him to take his own life if his past were so bleak. But why choose to live instead? I'm afraid the only driving force he had to continue existing is the reason that brought him to what he's currently doing. It's the only thing – his driving force – that keeps him going with life."

I sighed.

The more I understand Edward, the more it seemed harder for me to help him.

My thoughts made me suddenly take a second.

_I wanted to help him._

First my epiphany at work, with Jessica and now this …

"What about you guys?" I said instead, hoping to change the course of our conversation so that I would veer off facing my feelings for at least a few moments.

"What do you want to know?"

"Do you also do what he does?"

I can't imagine tiny Alice firing a shot at someone or the funny Rose, or even the goofy Emmett. They all seemed too normal to be criminals.

Alice chuckled before she answered me.

"Hell no, we can't stomach that. I work on paintings. I make duplicates of original works and we sell those for the same price as the original. Rosalie is into grand theft auto, while Emmett sometimes works as a sort of second in command for Edward. Edward sometimes asks Rose to show up with him, like at the auction, but he does the work by himself. Emmett only does the clean-up, making sure no traces were left. Edward only asks him when it is on a large scale. Emmett's primary work is selling guns."

When she put it that way, all they're doing seems to be harmless compared to what Edward does. It makes me more intrigued on why they stick with him knowing how gruesome his work is.

As if reading my thoughts, Alice suddenly said "Bella, I know you're thinking how we could allow him to do what he does. But I want to ask you this instead; why do you think we would? Clearly, it is so bizarre, so inhuman as opposed to what we do or normal people do. Nevertheless, we're not stupid. We believe in him enough to allow him to continue with his course. Please at least dwell on that."

When she explains it that way…

"Do you answer to anyone? A boss, perhaps?"

She sealed her lips to gesture she was not allowed to talk about that.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"Don't be. I would also be very curious if I were in your shoes."

We then continue with what we're doing, relapsing to our companionable silence. However, right before we finished with the dishes, Alice said something that will sure to keep me awake at night.

"But Bella, seeing him with you, for the first time, we're hoping things will take a different turn. I hope you're the answer we've been looking for. And just like you, I hope he'll find a way to stop."

So a few things were made clearer for me today, in exchange for some of them becoming more conflicting:

I might have fallen for an anguished man who kills people for a living. A man who does this because of his sordid past. Someone I want to help, and who I might or might not be able to convince to stop what he's doing.

It was all so complicated.

So later that night, I turned to the only man I knew who could help show me the right course of action.

The only man who could tell me what the right thing to do would be.

I prayed to God.

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**A/N**: I had a blast with last chapter's reviews. Thank you. And thanks again to my wonderful and most patient beta, SunflowerFran.


	13. Chapter 13: Driving Towards Love

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 13: ****DRIVING TOWARDS LOVE**

_Love is always patient and kind. It is never jealous. Love is never boastful or conceited. It is never rude or selfish. It does not take offense and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people's sins, but delights in the truth. It is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes._

_1 Corinthians 13: 4-7_

I threw the bible from my lap in frustration and then sunk in my bed to grumble.

"No single explanation – none! Even King Solomon's verses don't explain what I feel!"

I shouted at the ceiling, staring at the lines that serve as its design, trying to release my irked mood.

I've been up for almost an hour now, only managing to sleep for two hours. Since I couldn't force myself to go back to sleep, I opened my bible in hope that some answers would magically show themselves to me. But the bible was a mystery written in codes and proverbs that I couldn't decipher easily. I knew that I needed an expert for this, however, I don't think it would be wise to ask them about what I was feeling.

How could I ask my Mother Superior what love is supposed to feel like? She's a nun. She probably never felt it before – not towards the opposite sex, at least. And if she asks to whom these feelings are directed, what would I say? _Well, see Mother, I met this mysterious guy who was stabbed because he's a murderer. But I think I like him, and I was wondering if it is wrong for me to fall in love with him. Also, his friends are warm and great. In addition, no, they do not kill people; one of them steals fancy cars, the other replicates __priceless __paintings and __sells__ them, and the last one sells illegal guns. I have learned a lot and met __some __diverse people in my short stay in New York. __Nevertheless, __don't worry they're good people. The man I might love asked me to stay at his place when he saved me from this guy harassing me, so I know he won't harm me._

Yes, that would go really well.

A knock at the door alerted me.

"Bella, are you up?" I heard the voice of Alice asking me from outside the door.

"Yes, I am."

"Can I come in?"

I sat up as I answered "the door is open, just come inside."

She opened the door and she scanned the room. Her eyes landed on my bible at the foot of the bed.

"Needed some guidance?"

"Actually, yes, but for the first time, the words of God failed me."

She smiled as she closed the door, and came to sit with me on the bed.

"I think it doesn't. You just don't understand because you still lack the experience needed to relate to it."

That surprised me.

"You believe in God?"

"Of course, silly. All of us do."

"Edward doesn't."

"Edward denies that He exists, but I know deep inside he has a conscience, so I know there's still hope for him."

"I knew it! I said the same thing to him."

Alice chuckled.

"Can I ask you something again?"

She nodded – her smile still in place.

"Why did you choose this life?"

Her happy expression turned somber as she seemed to reminisce her past.

"It wasn't a choice so much as a last resort. I was a runaway and I couldn't make ends meet. I knew I needed to do something to earn more. I tried selling my own paintings on the street, but no one seemed to care about art in New York if it wasn't in some fancy studio. That's what led me to this."

She said the last part vaguely, leaving out the important details such as who had showed her this life.

"Why did you run away from home?"

She looked down as sadness filled her eyes.

"My mother was a prostitute. I never knew my dad. When my mother noticed that I had begun to mature and show feminine attributes, she asked me to do what she did as some sort of payment for my rent. That's when I moved out. I was fifteen."

Dread filled my heart.

"I'm sorry. That's too sad. It seems as though everyone I've ever met has had their own baggage."

She looked at me, trying to bring back her smile.

"It's part of being human. It's part of life."

I sighed.

"Are Rosalie and Emmett the same? Do they also have baggage that brought them to their lifestyles?"

"Those are not my stories to tell, but yes, something like that."

"I'm sorry for asking."

She only smiled, accepting my apology.

"And Edward's past is more dreadful than you've experienced?"

"Mine seems like a walk in the park compared to his."

How bad could it have been if something as dreadful as your own mother prostituting you would seem like nothing?

"So," Alice suddenly said in a much cheerful tone, "why did you throw your poor book on the bed?"

I eyed my bible, feeling guilty for discarding it the way I did. The bible is the word of God, and I just threw it without respect.

I picked it up to lay it carefully on my lamp table.

"It's a little embarrassing, actually."

"If you don't want to, you don't have to tell me."

I eyed Alice, and the openness in her eyes made me want to talk.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone, especially Edward."

"Pinky promise," she held out her pinky finger with an amused smile. I laughed as I entwined my pinky with hers as if we were teenagers.

I then drew in a huge breath before I spoke.

"Well, I was wondering what love feels like. I don't know if I'm falling for Edward since I've never experienced this before, and no one actually told me how it would feel."

She smiled at me in understanding.

"Growing up with all nuns, I can guess no one cautioned you on how it would be."

"Exactly," I nodded.

"I can't be an expert for I've never been in love either. Rosalie is probably the best person to answer you but since you spoke to me on a pinky swear," she laughed and I followed, "I'll try my best to give an answer based on what I've observed from people.

I know a lot of clichés in the movies, about the girl seeing things in slow motion, or the ringing of bells … Or music playing in the background, but actually, I think, love isn't like that. It's a confusing feeling that will drive you insane trying to rationalize everything. However, love is never rational. It will make you do crazy stuff you never knew you'd do. It will bring out raw emotions, ones that you've never experienced before. It will change you, not because you needed changing, but it's just that powerful.

It can make you believe in things – in people – and accept their flaws. No one is perfect, and when you fall for someone, you'll see all their imperfections; but you know what? You'll love and accept that person much more because of their flaws, and you'll see those imperfections perfectly.

Love is fighting with someone in the night and then crying yourself to sleep. Then waking up and making up with that person. Love is a burning desire in your chest as you kiss your love with all your passion, and soul. Love is making mistakes, is hurting that person, only to apologize and try to be better. Love is allowing yourself to forgive and forget. Love is sharing a moment with another person, even as simple as sipping coffee together in the morning, or embracing each other as you fall asleep at night.

Love is easy. But people complicate it. It's an easy feeling, which brings you so much happiness and contentment, but with it comes tough situations and convoluted decisions.

And most of all, love is baring your soul to another person, as you accept them and they accept you. You come to trust each other completely – enough to lay bare all your fears and try to be brave together."

I had a tear in my eye when Alice was finished. I wiped it as I tried to hide my face from her. I then felt her embrace me, making me sob more.

"Oh my Lord, Alice, I'm in love," I said, crying hard. She hugged me tighter, trying to comfort me.

"Shh… It's okay, honey. You don't need to fight it, nor feel afraid. It's normal. Everything will be okay."

I held up my head, realizing how hard it would be for me to be happy.

"But Alice, he kills people. How stupid am I to have fallen in love with a murderer. At first, I thought maybe it'd pass, that I'd forget him. We only shared one week together as I tried to help him. Now it's been more than two months. I can't feel this way for him."

"Why not? Because he kills people?"

I shook my head, feeling desperate.

"It's not just that, Alice. I know he's good. And I know he has his reasons. And I know God will forgive him – he is a loving, benevolent and forgiving God. And Edward is the prodigal son who could find his way back to God. God will open his doors to his lost soul and make a feast. And I will do whatever it takes for him to find God again."

"Then what's wrong?"

More tears fell from my eyes as I said in a quivering voice "Alice, I'm a novice nun."

Shock made Alice stop her ministrations on my hair.

"It's supposed to be a secret; I'm out on a mission, so I should go back. I've always wanted to be a nun; I've never seen any other path for me. However, before I become one, the church sent me out so that I could see how life was in the real world. If I actually feel as if I belong to the church after I experience some real life experiences, then I am to go back and take my vows.

They do this to everyone – even the priests. Many do not go back and I think I understand why – There is so much here, so much life, outside of the church. And here, outside, we are regular people.

But Alice, I have fallen in love with a murderer. I don't care about the material things, but I don't think I could go back there anymore. I can't get married to God if my heart is elsewhere. We are supposed to be brides of God, Alice, and I can't be a bride to God if I love someone else.

And it scares me.

It scares me a lot.

I've known only this path, and now, everything will change. How could I explain to the church that I've fallen for a sinful person? God, Alice, I don't know what to do. And if I can't have a life with Edward, how could I stay here outside?

I'm so confused!"

She patted my head again. Strangely, it felt the same as when Mother Superior tried to console me whenever I would hurt myself as a child.

"It's okay Bella. You'll be fine. Love is supposed to be like that, but it is the greatest emotion you can experience. And there's no need for you to decide right away if you'll continue to be a nun. You'll have plenty of time for that decision. Right now, cherish this feeling you have. I think, more than completing your mission, your church sent you out for this – for you to experience life and learn from it. For you to be alive. When and if you experienced everything and still return to God, I'm sure you'll be able to serve him much more faithfully then."

I nodded, suddenly laughing like a crazy person.

"Gee, I feel like a child."

She chuckled.

"No, silly. You're a woman now. A woman who's in love. And you know what?"

"What?" I asked, eyeing her secret smile.

"I think this Bella … The one who knows what love is, is so beautiful."

I smiled, again feeling the warmth of Alice that I've only felt toward my Mother Superior.

Edward didn't question my puffy eyes when Alice and I came downstairs for breakfast, but I saw his eyes widen a little when he glanced at me. Emmett and Rosalie were still too spent to wake up, and we let them sleep on the couch in the living room.

Breakfast with Alice and Edward was an awkward event. Because I now understood what I felt, I was watching his every move like a hawk, trying to figure out when and how I had fallen in love with him. Alice tried to engage both of us in conversation but neither seemed to be in the mood to talk and so she finally gave up.

At one time, when I tried to reach the bottle of jam and Edward did the same, our hands touched, and a sudden jolt made us both flinch. I stared wide-eyed at him and he did the same.

I wanted to ask him '_Did you feel that?'_ But I didn't do it because it felt like a risqué thing to ask. What if he didn't; I would have sounded crazy. I mean, who feels electricity when you touch someone?

But what if he _did_?

What then does it mean?

Would he read what I feel towards him?

"Are you all right?" Edward suddenly asked, snapping me out of my stupor.

"Yeah, I mean, the toast taste really good if you spread on some strawberry jam."

He looked amused when he corrected me saying "Maybe you mean the other way around."

"Yeah, sorry, I mean strawberry jam tastes good with toast," I laughed a little at the end, embarrassed and blushing.

_Stupid_.

After the stupid remarks I've said, we relapsed to our quiet dining. Edward had a permanent smile on his face and it made me wonder if was due to my antics. that's how funny I sounded like.

It was Wednesday, which meant I'd work at Starbucks again. Edward made good on his promise and drove me to work. I was quiet the entire ride, my thoughts consumed with wonder on how I had fallen for him, and Edward didn't try to engage me in any conversation.

Once he parked in front of my workplace, I mechanically unstrapped my seatbelt and was again surprised to find him already opening my door.

I got out and was already walking towards my workplace when he suddenly spoke making me halt and pivot to face him.

"Bella, I don't know what happened but you seem really distracted. And I saw your eyes earlier when you came down from your room with Alice. I wanted to know if I've done something, or maybe you have a problem and you want to share it with me."

He looked so confused and worried that it made my heart feel warm and tingly.

"Oh, Edward, it's nothing. I just realized something and Alice was there for my breakdown. Nothing too serious, I promise."

"You sure? There's nothing I can do?"

This caring side of him affected me so much that I felt as if I could be falling for him even more, if that was even possible.

I swallowed, trying to calm my erratic heart as I answered, "Don't worry about it. I'll return to my usual self after my shift."

He nodded, glanced at his car, and then waved awkwardly at me.

Why did he have to be so normal today when I am so conflicted? Gone is the mysterious, dangerous man. In his place was the caring, unsure person.

It made my heartbeat accelerate.

He looked … what's the word? Cute.

Before I could stop, I found myself hugging him as he tensed in surprise. I tightened my embrace, feeling my erratic heart beating incredibly faster. I almost even said _I love you_, but thankfully I didn't. I could only imagine how awkward that might have turned out and how hard it would be for me to have explained.

I felt him hug me a little before I extricated myself from him.

I could feel my blush in place when I said, "Bye, thanks for the ride."

Before I could do anything else, I turned around, walked, and didn't look back until I was safely inside. I spied on him from the glass walls and saw him as he got inside his car and drove off.

I shook my head, reprimanding myself of my stupidity.

All day I was distracted. Jessica, who seemed to understand my current frame of mind, helped me as much as she could. I thanked her at the end of the day. She had an idea what was bugging me and she tried to help me throughout the day.

I smiled as I hugged her goodbye.

Edward's black car was already parked when I got out from work. I took an enormous breath before I got inside, and without word, he started the engine.

We were quiet for a few minutes until I could take it no longer and tried to start a conversation.

"Did Rosalie, Alice, and Emmett leave?"

"Yes, although they'll be back tonight. Alice felt that it wasn't a good idea to leave the two of us alone."

"Did she tell you why?"

"I'd rather not tell you."

That made me nervous. Had Alice broken her promise and told Edward how I feel?

"Can you please tell me? It makes me a bit nervous not to know why she would say something so absurd."

He hesitated before finally relenting.

"Well, something along the lines of 'control' and that I better not 'mess this up'."

Alice thought I'd mess up and tell Edward how I felt?

"She thinks I might mess something up?"

In the dim light, I couldn't be sure but I thought I saw Edward blush. But I must have been seeing things. It doesn't seem to be in his character to be embarrassed.

"It wasn't you she thought would mess up, Bella. It was me. And I actually think it's a good idea that they're staying. I think Alice was right."

That confused me.

"Right on what?" What did she mean?

Again, he seemed to hesitate before blurting out, "You're a beautiful woman, Bella. That night we slept together was hard for me. I don't want to lose your trust, especially after what the bastard of a dog did to you. But if we would be alone again, I don't know if I'd find the same strength."

I was blushing even before he had finished speaking; finally catching on to the 'sleeping thing' Emmett had been mentioned.

"And by 'do something,' Alice was trying to say that…"

"Have sex, Bella," he said bluntly.

He looked at me then with a hint of anger, and I nodded, swallowed, and blushed more.

"Are you really that naïve?" he asked, peeved, which made me a bit defensive.

"I'm sorry if I'm not used to innuendos. At church and we had never talked about that. I'm trying hard to cope with life outside, but I'm not so naïve as to not know what sex is. I've never done it, but I know people … couples, do it."

I hadn't even noticed that the car had already stopped; all I could hear was our quiet breathing.

Out of the blue, Edward suddenly said, "I'm sorry. I'm just not used to being around a woman who had no idea about sex."

"I have an idea," I corrected, not wanting to sound like a clueless moron in front of him.

He suddenly smiled, amused, and I marveled at his handsome face.

"What's funny?" I asked much softer than my previous tone.

"You," he said, fighting back the laugh that wanted to erupt. "I just never thought that one day I'd find myself talking to you about sex … Trying my best to tone it down for you, while you tried to disprove your naivety about the subject. I mean, look at me; I'm a soulless murderer and you, an innocent religious girl. I guess I just have a dark sense of humor."

"You're not soulless."

"Hmmm," he mused, lifting his fingers to his chin and running his index to his lower lip. The action made me focus on his lips and how soft looking they were. "I'm enjoying this far too much … I think I'm going straight to hell."

I looked up at his eyes, blinked twice to dispel my sudden desire to kiss him, and focused on what he has just said.

"You lost me there. I don't understand what you're talking about."

He laughed, and the sound of his laughter did something to the beating of my heart.

"Do you know how to drive a car?" he suddenly asked.

Confused, I responded, "no."

He took the keys from his car and jingled them in his palm.

"I'll teach you."

Surprised, I looked outside to see that we were in some sort of tracking field. I hadn't even noticed I was that distracted.

"Where, here? Why?"

"Just humor me."

I looked at him confused, not following his erratic mind.

Seeing my expression, he explained "I figured if you grew up in a convent, no one would teach you how to drive a car. Don't you want to learn?"

And like a kid on Christmas, I smiled hugely, my excitement palpable. It seemed that my high spirits were contagious as he, in turn, smiled a huge smile.

Edward was very patient with me throughout the whole process. He first told me what the parts of the car were, and how they functioned, before he finally let me take the wheel for my first try.

The first time I tried to step on the gas, I kicked it too hard and we shot a little forward before I was able to hit the brake abruptly. I was a nervous wreck, but Edward was unfazed, telling me that it was always like that on the first try.

I tried to be gentle the next time and managed to make the car creep forward a few meters before the engine shut off.

After about five or six more pathetic tries I was finally able to get the hang of it and could actually drive albeit very slowly. Edward complimented me and I felt proud of myself.

"I did it! I am a woman who can now drive a car!"

My excitement and my choice of words made Edward chuckle.

I then glanced at the clock on the car to see that it was already seven in the evening.

"We probably should head back, I need to cook for all of us," I said.

"You don't need to serve anyone, Bella. They wanted to stay at my place out of their own accord – I didn't invite them. It's not my responsibility to make sure they eat at the right time."

"Edward, I love cooking for people. It makes me feel useful. And besides, they are your friends. They care a lot about you. The least you could do is to be a good host for them."

He didn't argue after that.

We went back to his place –with him driving – and it was obvious how professional his driving skills were compared to mine.

We arrived in less than fifteen minutes.

"Thank you for teaching me. That was really fun."

He smiled and then got out of his car. It didn't surprise me anymore when after I had unstrapped my seatbelt, he was already at my door, opening it for me. Edward is a gentleman, and it made me fall even more for him.

I marveled at that term – falling in love.

It suited the situation perfectly.

I felt as though I was falling and couldn't guess whether I'd land safely or end up broken.

Moreover, the entire falling thing is an exhilarating, happy, yet scary feeling. Every simple thing he did made me fall for him more and he always seemed to be connected to my heart.

_So this was falling in love._

That night, when everyone was already asleep, with Emmett and Rosalie staying in the living room again and Alice staying with me inside my room, a faint noise alerted me.

At first I thought it was just my imagination, but then it grew a bit louder, making me bolt from my sleep.

I glanced at the sleeping form of Alice, and once I was sure she was deep in slumber, I silently crawled out of bed, careful not to wake her. She stirred a little but resumed sleeping.

Tiptoeing until I reached my door, I tried my best to be as quiet as I could as I turned the doorknob.

Once I was safely outside, I followed the noise or music, leading me towards Edward's room. I tried to be quiet again as I turned his knob – glad that it was unlocked – and peeked inside.

Edward's back was to me as he hovered over a piano. As I peeked my head inside I made the mistake of leaning against his door.

It creaked, and his head snapped up to me.

"Sorry," I murmured, embarrassed that I was caught listening in. "Your playing roused me so I came to see where it was coming from."

He didn't seem mad; he didn't show any emotion.

"Come in," he said, gesturing for me to come and sit beside him on the bench.

Our earlier talk about sex sprung to mind and made me hesitant. He seemed to sense this, however, so he smiled a little as he said "Come, I won't bite. And I won't do anything inappropriate, I promise."

I blushed as I took a step inside his unlit room.

I scanned the room briefly to see that it was identical to mine. It made me sad that I could not see any trace of his personality therein, except the grand piano against the glass wall.

_I wonder if one of his drawers held a gun…_

I carefully sat beside him, aware of how nervous it made me feel to be alone with him like this. It made me wonder why I feel this now, and I hadn't when we slept together.

Was it because I finally acknowledged my feelings towards him and that I was finally aware that I am attracted to him?

"You seem uncomfortable," he noted, eyeing me carefully.

"Sorry," I said, not wanting to offer an explanation.

I glanced at his piano and ran my fingers on some of the keys, careful not to press them.

"What were you playing before I interrupted you?"

He smiled as he settled his hands on the keys.

"I was writing a song. I've never written anything before, but I suddenly had this compulsion to create something. The tune kept running in my head since yesterday and I couldn't sleep, so I decided to finally try to play it."

"Could you play it again?"

He shook his head – his smile still in place.

"No. I'd rather play it for you when I'm finished."

"It sounded romantic and sad at the same time."

I wondered if it could be a clue to what he was feeling at the moment.

"How about I play a different tune instead?"

I smiled excitedly, eager to hear him play up close.

He looked at me for a little longer before he started playing.

At first, I couldn't believe that it was really him playing and if I hadn't seen his fingers pressing the keys.

It sounded so professional, so skilled, and so raw.

The emotions were spilling freely from the keys. The music was heartbreaking in its sadness, but I could detect happiness, too. The tune itself didn't sound sad; it was the way in which he played it that was. I realized I was feeling _his_ emotions instead of hearing the tune of the song.

It ended in a cheerful tone and I couldn't contain the lone tear that dropped from my eye.

"It was beautiful, Edward; painful and heartbreakingly beautiful," I gushed.

He raised his hand to wipe my tear, and I felt the electricity again from the contact. Only this time, neither of us jerked from each other.

"It was my mother's song. She was the one who taught me how to play the piano. She used to play it to me a lot when I was a kid."

Hearing this piece of information that he had voluntarily shared with me made my heart feel a warmth so inexplicable that I almost teared up again. But fortunately, I didn't.

It was nothing of how Jacob had relayed his past. This was Edward, aloof and mysterious, sharing a little about himself.

It was a precious experience for me.

"That explains the sad way you played. Is she gone?"

Edward only nodded, seeming unable to say the words.

I didn't ask him anything more. I didn't want to be the person who forced him to tell me his past. I wanted to be someone who he felt safe enough with to unburden his experiences. I wanted another moment like this, him freely saying something without me prompting.

So instead, I said "Play again. Play a happy song. I don't want to go back to bed in tears."

He nodded, looked at me a little longer again, and smiled as he played something cheerful. When he was done, he told me that his mother taught him that when he was a child. I urged him again to play after that, and he humored me again.

That's what we did all night. When I was finally tired, he told me to go back to bed.

I did with a smile, and so did he.

As I tucked myself in bed, I vowed never to forget that moment.

If I could have bottled it, I would have done so. This way I could always revisit it at any time. It was such a beautiful moment that I was afraid to sleep for fear it didn't happen.

It was the moment Edward had allowed me a glimpse of his beautiful soul.

* * *

**A/N: **SunflowerFran is the best beta in the world! It's thanks to her that you guys can read this story without having headaches.

Also, I stated this in the last chapter but it seems that some didn't notice the A/N update, so I repeat that I made an outtake for chapter 11 in EPOV. View the story entitled "_OUTTAKES FROM THE REVELATIONS OF AN INNOCENT MIND_" if you want to read it.

I also updated my A/N in the first chapter about what instigated me to write this. You can check it out if you want.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Thank you all for reading!


	14. Chapter 14: The Other Side of the Coin

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 14: THE OTHER SIDE OF THE COIN**

Sharing the house with Alice, Rosalie and Emmett made everything much happier. The saying 'the more, the merrier' couldn't have been more appropriate. The past days made me warm up to them, to the point that I even told a few jokes.

Emmett and Rosalie's relationship was one that veers towards flamboyant. They were never afraid to show each other what they felt. I was shocked when I arrived with Edward on Thursday from helping with Mother Elizabeth's congregation to find Emmett and Rosalie kissing in the living room unabashedly, even though Alice was there. Alice told me that when they were like that I should prepare myself because they were very much in love or making up after a huge fight. The make-up sessions, according to her, were more intense.

It was nice to see them so much in love. I wasn't that naïve not to know that they committed pre-marital sex. And although I grew up believing that it was a bad thing, seeing them so in love and happy made me question why it was considered wrong. What was wrong with showing your lover how much you love him? I then glanced at Edward, and I felt that yearning again mixed with envy. I'm aware that they were two of the deadly sins, but I couldn't help wishing that we were like that. However, Edward was still aloof. He merely glanced at them and went upstairs to his room. I sighed at my sadness, and Alice seemed to understand me again, offering me a hug.

By Friday, I was able to be more focused on helping the inmates. Sister Lauren even noted that I seemed inspired. Of course, I couldn't tell her that it was because I was in love, but I had hoped that I could. It was such a huge emotion that seemed hard to contain.

I then saw the southern inmate again, talking to himself as he sat alone.

I had approached him with a warm smile.

"Hi. You remember me?" I sat beside him. He had glanced at me with a crazy smile.

"Miss, long time, no see."

"Yeah, I haven't seen you in a while. I was just wondering though, about what we talked about last time – about Masen? What do you know about him?"

"Who's Masen?"

He was looking at me as though he had no clue what I was talking about.

"You were the one that told me he's like you, that he's a hired killer. What do you know about his past?"

He then stood and looked at me gravely.

"I'm sorry, Miss. I ain't no knowledge what yer talking about."

He walked away from me, leaving me confused, and questioning whether he was sane.

But overall, everything was great. I never thought I'd be happy with the company of criminals as my friends, but I was. There was nothing scary or different about them. I saw Alice, Rosalie, Emmett and Edward as ordinary people, who had hard circumstances and were trying to cope with life. I saw them as lost souls, who needed guidance and mercy from other people to get them back on the right path. I see them as people capable of love and compassion, but shunned by society merely because they were doing what others deemed wrong.

In actuality, what was wrong was not giving them a chance at a better life.

Emmett would be a great cop – one could not help but to feel safe around him with his massive frame and kind smile. And when I once talked to him, he told me he was a really good shot; he could aim to shoot a non-critical region of the body, so as to hurt but not kill someone.

Rosalie would be a great mechanic. She's really into cars, and it would be a tremendous success for a girl as beautiful as she is to be fixing cars. I could only imagine her and Emmett living as married couple and having a peaceful life.

Alice could be a celebrated artist. I don't have that much knowledge about art, but she had shown me one of her original pieces and it ignited my emotions just by looking at its beauty. It was abstract, and once she explained to me how the lines represented people always near each other but never touching, never getting a chance to be together, I had tears in my eyes.

And Edward … I could see so much for Edward. He could be used for intelligence by the FBI or a great musician, or anything that he wanted to be. He seemed really smart and detail-oriented since his friends always looked to him for guidance.

And it would make me the happiest person in the world if he changed his path.

Maybe it goes against what I was brought up to believe, but I was pretty sure that in the eyes of God, these people were equals. So even if they were sinful, no sin was too great not to be forgiven by the mercy of God. Only, if they were given second chances.

I could only imagine how lengthy the conversation I'd have with Father Ben would be when I get back to Forks. And for the first time, I could see myself arguing with him and not blindly agreeing with everything he said.

Well, that's if I'll go back.

I remembered when I was tending to Edward's wounds the first week that we met. I thought how hope is a dangerous thing. It truly is, because that's how I was feeling.

I was hoping he'd change his ways.

I was hoping he'd stop what he was doing.

I was hoping he'd glance at me the way I do at him.

I was hoping he'd tell me his past on his own.

I was hoping he'd love me back.

I was hoping…

However, I could safely say that there was something peculiar in the way Edward Cullen looked at me. It was as if his eyes, which before, were cold stone emeralds, now could show a softness when he glanced at me. I couldn't even remember him looking at me in a cold manner anymore, as if as soon as his eyes landed on mine, they would immediately soften.

Warm.

And I could tell that for him, I am a refreshing change. Just the way he acts around me is different. I could see him cordial with Emmett, Rosalie, and Alice. And maybe it was just my wishful thinking, but I feel as though he treats me differently. He is softer towards me.

Gentler.

Kinder.

As though whenever he was around me, he could lessen some of his sadness and be happier … He could laugh or smile.

It makes me fall deeper for him.

A week has passed since I have been staying at Edward's place along with his friends who were now also my new friends. I felt as though I was living in a dream and sometimes made me wonder when reality will come knocking at my doorstep.

I hadn't seen Jacob since the last time, and for that, I was glad. I still wasn't able to form a decision as to how I would react if I saw him again. And secretly, I hoped that he had finally given up on me.

On Monday morning, I woke up earlier than usual. I left Alice in our shared bed and walked downstairs, hoping to prepare a meal.

And that's when I heard two voices in the kitchen.

I was about to go back to give them their privacy, but I heard my name and I couldn't help but to eavesdrop.

I recognized Rosalie and Edward.

"… _Bella. Edward, are you crazy? Give the poor girl a chance to breathe."_

"_Rosalie, it's not that easy. I wish I could easily give up on her. I've tried, and it was really hard."_

"_What? Don't tell me you've fallen for her?"_

At that, my heartbeat accelerated. Could Edward have fallen for me too?

"_I can't do that."_

"_Edward, you know damn well that she's into you. If you can't reciprocate her feelings, just give her up. You're using her, you selfish bastard."_

He was silent for a few seconds. I felt my heart break. Maybe I was a masochist, because I still listened to them.

"_I know Bella's in love with me, Rosalie. I can feel it. She may not realize it yet, but I do."_

He knows? Why didn't he say anything?

"_So, are you as well? Do you love her?"_

"_I can't. We still have two guys, and I can't lose focus now. Not now when I'm so close to finishing everything."_

"_So what? Are you just going to stay with her until you decide? Edward, I like Bella. She's the only person who has never judged us for what we do, and she treats us as her equals. Look at Alice – I've never seen her relate to anyone the way she does to her. She makes Alice feel needed, and you damn well know how important it is for Alice to connect with someone. And if you end up hurting and breaking Bella Swan, I swear to God I'll personally scald you, you selfish bastard."_

They were both silent after that.

I contemplated getting back to my room, but I can't seem to move.

A few more moments passed until I heard Edward speak in a defeated voice.

He said, _"I don't want to lose her, Rosalie. But I also don't know what to do. She makes me feel alive and hopeful. But I know I can't be what she wants me to be. I can't love her the same way she loves me. She doesn't yet know how she feels about me, so I will try to spend as much time as I can with her. You're right, Rosalie, I am a selfish bastard. I am using her, because I can't stay away, but I also can't return her feelings. And I know damn well I'll go straight to hell after this, but for the first time, I really don't know what to do. I sometimes want to forget everything and try to be with her, but what would I offer? I'm a rotten, sinful man. There is no future for us."_

At that, I had to interrupt them before my heart broke anymore or before I started again with the stupid crying jag.

I made sure to count to ten before I greeted them a pleasant good morning.

Upon seeing me, their expressions were of shock and they were afraid I had heard everything. I tried to act nonchalant towards them.

"What's wrong? Are you that surprised to find me up so early?"

Edward had blinked twice before he spoke.

"Have you been here all along? Did you hear anything?"

_Like how you can't decide if you love me or not, but can't escape my company and you have two more guys to kill?_

"No. Do I need to hear anything? Do you want to tell me something?" I acted as if I had no idea what he meant and then proceeded to get moving so I could start cooking breakfast.

They were quiet for a few moments, until I felt Rosalie hug me from behind.

"I love you Bella, you know that? I love you so much."

I faced her with a sincere smile on my face.

"I love you too, Rosalie. You, Alice and Emmett are true friends to me." I then looked pointedly at Edward as I said, "I can't thank Edward enough for making me meet all of you."

We then hugged each other, and she helped me with the breakfast preparation.

I cried a little when I was chopping the onions, and when Rosalie noticed, I used the lame excuse of the onions stinging my eyes.

What she didn't know is that my heart was breaking instead.

Going to work and distancing myself from Edward seems to be the best course for me. I was quiet the whole ride to work. He asked me once if I was all right and I said yes. I told him I was just feeling a little down today, maybe I was homesick. He never questioned me after that. I think he jumped to the conclusion quite easily, which is what I hoped.

I wasn't distracted at work – on the contrary, I was much more focused. I tried to clear my mind of any decisions. And although I was focused, Jessica had also asked me if I was okay, pointing out that I wasn't smiling as I usually did. I told her the exact excuse that I told Edward, and she bought it easily.

But really, what would I do now? Edward feels that there is no hope for us. I hadn't tried yet to convince him to stop with what he was doing. I'm in love with him, which makes me want to ignore my pride and self-worth and stay with him, pretending he didn't know what I felt towards him. But I know I should do something. I just can't sit back and let him hurt me.

Hurt.

Alice had cautioned me of this.

I feel as if my heart was breaking into tiny pieces.

Knowing that Edward is aware that I love for him is even more painful. He intended to spend time with me, never having any plan to let on that how he felt about me.

Edward is cruel.

And just my luck, I have fallen for a cruel man.

Because if he will only tell me to stop loving him for he doesn't feel the same way towards me, I will not hope anymore. But no, he told Rosalie that he _couldn't_ love me; not that he _doesn't _love me. That makes me hope that he will eventually realize he _could_ fall in love with me.

What would I do then?

Ask him to stop being a hitman?

Ask him to stay with me?

Could I live with the guilt of knowing I forced him out of this life and that he didn't do it willingly? That it wasn't sincere?

It makes me feel numb.

I don't know what to do, and I just don't want to dwell on anything.

And just my luck today is the day that Jacob decided to finally show up.

* * *

I was in front of the cashier and had just finished taking the latest order when Jacob suddenly appears in front of me. He is wearing his usual expensive clothing, sporting sunglasses to hide the yellowish bruises Edward had left on his face.

Upon seeing him, I felt nothing.

Numb.

It wasn't how I expected I would feel.

But at that time, I was still numb from what I heard from Edward, and so even though I should have been scared, or mad at Jacob, I couldn't summon any emotion for him.

"What do you want to order, Sir," I stated, treating him as our usual customer. Jessica eyed us cautiously but didn't say anything.

"Bella, can we please talk?" He pleaded.

I didn't buy his act for one instant.

"Sir, I'm afraid if you aren't order anything, you have to leave the shop."

"Please, Bella, don't act as though you don't know me. I'm really sorry for what happened, I was just … can we please talk?"

"Next customer, please."

Right then, Mike showed up.

"Oh, Mr. Black, good to see you here. You want to talk to Miss Swan?"

I forgot Jacob and Mike were in a phone pal relationship.

"Yes, please, Mr. Newton. I won't keep her long."

"Talk to her as long as you want. Jessica," he called Jessica who immediately approached us, "can you handle the cashier for a few minutes?"

"Of course, Mike. Err, Sir."

I mechanically removed my apron and walked out from behind the counter. I strode to the farthest seat and sat there as Jacob immediately took a seat across from me.

I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for him to speak, still having no emotions.

He grasped his hair, trying to phrase what he wanted to say, before he finally spoke.

"I had been drinking that day because it was my mother's death anniversary. Every year that day comes I just can't seem to handle it. I'm sorry for what I did. It was wrong of me, I know. We had been building our friendship slowly, and I was on my way to earning your trust, and I ruined everything just like that. God, Bella, I messed up everything."

I didn't speak. He seemed to be waiting for me to say something.

"I'm sorry I came to you like that. You're so innocent and pure, and I'm sorry I tried to do that to you. I admit, I really wanted you, but that was…" He took a huge breath. "I'm sorry. Please, please, tell me what to do to fix it. I'll do anything. Please, Bella."

I didn't speak again.

"Please, say something, I beg you. Please."

I finally spoke with a voice I never thought I possessed.

It was cold.

Unfeeling.

"It took you a week to come here to apologize?"

He shook his head.

"I know. I couldn't seem to face you. I was a coward. I'm sorry."

I stood then, about to leave him there, but I was stopped by his hand on my wrist.

I flailed my hand from his touch, finally feeling something.

… A surge of fury enveloped me.

"Don't touch me. I am disgusted by you and what you did to me."

I said that in a soft but menacing voice. Jacob looked like he was crushed.

"Bella, please, don't do this. Please, show me mercy. I don't want to be left alone again."

Feeling the confidence I've never felt before, I sat again to face him.

I never counted myself as one who could be sarcastic or cruel, but righ now, I was so repulsed by his act that I found a new side of myself.

A darker, dangerous side.

"Stop this act, Jacob. You have been dealt a hard hand, but it is not an excuse for you to be so demanding and to impose yourself on someone. I know people who have gone through much more than what you have. And don't try the sympathy card on me, either. Everyone has their demons, Jacob, not just you. Now, leave before I call the police and tell them exactly what you did to me."

And just like that, his act disappeared.

I don't know how I had never seen it before – maybe I was really that naïve and innocent – but this was the real face of Jacob Black.

His expression suddenly changed from sad, to serious and mocking.

His frown transformed into a sarcastic smirk.

"Well, well. I already tried that act on you, but it didn't work this time. You finally grow a backbone, Bella; you're finally braver."

I huffed.

"So, it was an act all along; you wanting to be my friend. Calling me Bells. Showing up for lunch. Maybe even the story about your mother was made-up, too."

He suddenly looked furious.

"Don't mock that story, Bella. That is the one authentic thing about me. Tell me, what made you toughen up like this. Was it that guy, what was his name again, the one who bid on you in that auction and punched me the night I attacked you? Yes, the leech. Anthony, was it?"

I looked at him with pure venom.

"Or was it Edward?"

I seethed, gritting my teeth.

"Oh, yes. That's right, Masen. He was called Masen."

"Leave him out of this, Jacob."

He smiled a creepy smile.

"Sorry, I can't make that happen. It was you, actually, who helped me find out about him. It turns out I wasn't looking for the right name. However, when I recalled that night, I heard you call him 'Edward.' Yes, that was really helpful, thank you, Bella."

"What do you want?" I seethed.

He acted as though he was thinking about it, before he finally said, "How about you leave his house … For starters. Then I will think of what to do next."

I laughed, bluffing, but in truth, the hairs on my arm and back were raised in fright.

"You are no match for him. If you forgot to recall, Jacob, he is _Masen_. You know what that means, right? How he could crush you if he wanted to?"

He laughed menacingly.

"My sweet Bella, why would I go one-on-one with him when I could easily tell the authorities what I know? I think Chief Stanley, or shall I say FBI Agent Stanley, would be interested in what I have to say."

I took three breaths, feeling as if I couldn't lose to Jacob like this.

"Do whatever you want, Jacob."

He smiled a bit too easily.

"I will, Bella. I will."

I stood to leave, but right before I did, I asked the question that had been plaguing me.

"Why are you doing this, Jacob? Why are you hurting me like this? You hardly know me – why are you obsessed with me?"

And for a split second, he looked like the Jacob I had met for the first time.

The kind, funny Jacob.

My friend Jacob.

"I just want you to love me, Bella."

But I couldn't pity this man.

Not after how he had threatened me, and what he had tried to do to me that night.

"You're sick, Jacob."

And just like that, the dark, disturbing Jacob was back.

* * *

**A/N: Happy New Year everyone! Thanks again for my beta, SunflowerFran, for this. I will be lost without her guidance.**

**Happy Reading!**


	15. Chapter 15: Agape Love

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 15: AGAPE LOVE**

Love is always patient and kind. It is never jealous. Love is never boastful or conceited. It is never rude or selfish. It does not take offense and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people's sins, but delights in the truth. It is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes.

For the first time, the words of 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7 resonate within me.

That particular verse kept replaying in my mind as I watched Edward drive me home after my shift.

I couldn't take my eyes off him. Especially after Jacob's threat.

It was that easy – just with that instance – to let go of my hurt towards what Edward had said about me.

Love is always ready to excuse…

I know exactly what that means.

"Is there something wrong? Why do you keep staring at me?" Edward asked as he glanced my way.

I smiled as I blinked back my tears.

"Nothing. You're just so handsome my heart hurts to look at you."

He smiled a little.

"Your heart hurts to look at me? Wow. I never knew the heart could see."

"They do. Hearts can see, and mine sees that you're very beautiful. I can see your soul, Edward. It's vibrant, and it wants to be free of all the hurt you carry and the guilt you feel for taking away lives."

He suddenly stopped the car to face me.

At first, he turned as if to argue with me, but upon seeing my expression, his gaze softened.

"Why are you crying?"

I wiped the traitor tears with a laugh.

"Nothing. I'm just too emotional. I guess that's how PMS works."

He chuckled a little.

"Wow. First, we talked about sex in my car, now we're talking about your period. We're really getting all the awkward talk out of the way so easily."

I laughed.

"Yeah. We're twisted people."

He smiled at first, but then looked at me with worry, and wiped my tears away.

"Really, what's wrong Bella? Did I do something? Did something happen?"

"It's nothing, you silly man. Can't I just tear up and admire you because you look so good?"

He smiled amusedly.

"That's kind of creepy, but coming from a beautiful girl, I guess I am flattered."

I sighed.

"Why are we like this, Edward? We're both attracted to each other, but we vehemently deny it."

A look of shock crossed his features.

"Don't deny it anymore, you silly man. When you looked at me and gulped that first night I was in your house, I knew you found me attractive. And the talk we had in your car, you finding it hard to control having sex with me, that's more than telling Edward."

"I just … You're attracted to me? You're admitting that you're attracted to me? You grew up in a church, and I'm not sure but I've had this feeling from the first day that I met you that you were planning to be a nun. And now, you're admitting that you're attracted to me?"

"How can I not? You're a handsome, sexy man of God; and I am still a woman. Nuns and priests are not perfect, Edward. Just because they serve God that doesn't mean they can't feel this way towards others. They just don't act upon it like Emmett and Rosalie do."

He was stunned for a few moments and then finally said, "Wow."

"Now, restart that car before I say anything more stupid."

He chuckled before he faced the road again and restarted the engine.

"I like this playful side of you, Bella Swan; this too honest, human side of you."

_And I love you Edward._

When we arrived at Edward's place, the first thing I noticed was the absence of noise. So it didn't surprise me not to find Alice, Rosalie, and Emmett, but the question was; where had they gone?

"Where are they?"

I asked as I shrugged out of my jacket and put it on the nearby couch in the living room.

"Out."

I faced him then.

"What does that mean?"

He ran a hand through his hair and walked towards the kitchen.

"Why are they not here?"

He looked at me with a sharp glare.

"They're out, Bella, out doing what they're doing."

With that, I finally understood what he means.

"They're out. Alice, Rosalie, and Emmett are out doing their work."

He nodded as his features softened.

He took a pitcher of water from his fridge and then retrieved two glasses. He offered me one and I took it without a word. He then poured both glasses with water.

I hesitated before voicing my concern.

"Edward, can I ask you something?"

He took a seat across me, drank from his glass, before finally nodding.

"Have you ever considered stopping?"

He instantly looked mad.

"Bella, if you're trying to tell me what I am doing is wrong, believe me, I have more than my fair share of…"

"No," I cut him, "I am not trying to impose this on you. I'm just genuinely asking if you have considered stopping."

He didn't answer and only looked at me, so I tried to explain what I was thinking.

"I mean, Rosalie could be a mechanic, Emmett could be a cop, and Alice could be a painter, and you… You could be anyone. A musician, a detective, or even a priest. I'm just saying, why choose this life, Edward? This life is full of guilt, uneasiness, and sleepless nights. Don't deny that – I know that after you 'do what you do'; you can't sleep peacefully at night, wracked with guilt over what you've done. Why?"

He took a moment before answering.

"I have considered it. One time," at this he looked at me pointedly, "but I just can't abandon everything. I am so close to my goal, Bella, and everything will finally be over. And as for the others, this is their choice. I don't want to tell them to do anything, because they also can't tell me what to do."

I nodded, took a sip of water from my glass, and then finally admitted, "I heard you."

He looked confused so I clarified, "I heard you this morning, with Rosalie. I heard everything you said."

He looked frozen, as though he was finding it hard to grasp what I had just stated.

"And you're right, you know. I do love you. I've been keeping this for a week now since I realized it, but I do. I love you. And you're right again. We can't be together if you're like this."

"So you know."

"Yes."

"And you acknowledge that you love me."

"Yes."

"And you want me to stop what I am doing."

"More than anything, yes."

He looked down at his glass as he contemplated this.

"I don't expect you to love me back. I realized that love isn't like that. True love is unconditional, and I can love you wholeheartedly without you loving me back. But I can't sit and wait, while you do what you do. I love you so much that I want to save your soul and bring you to heaven with me when we die. I love you so much that I want you to walk away from this life. Not because I told you to, but because you finally realize that there is nothing good about living the life you are leading now. Killing people does not solve anything, Edward. Whatever your reason for doing it, whatever your past might have been, it cannot bring you peace if you take away another person's life. I love you, Edward, and I just want you to be happy. And you can't find happiness by doing what you do."

"This is not happening…," he mumbled.

"It is. I love you," I tear up as I say those words, already knowing where this talk is headed. I waited, and I was not disappointed.

"Bella, you can't love me." He stood, angry, scared, shaking. I understand too well, how that feels. "Are you hearing yourself properly? You're throwing yourself at me. You're telling me that you're attracted to me and that you love me? Bella, I am not capable of love. I am a rotten, demonic creature. I have no heart. Have you no self-worth?"

I nodded calmly as more tears flowed.

"I expected this."

"What?"

"I knew you'd react this way. You're scared, because, for the first time, someone accepts you for who you are. You're frightened of me and of how big my love is for you. You're actually scared of becoming happy. I understand, Edward. Truly, I do."

"Okay, so you understand everything, and you knew how I would react; then enlighten me, what do you think will happen after this? That I will suddenly stop killing people, and come back to God; the same God who abandoned me and who you cling to?"

I took another sip of my water. I had expected everything, and it surprises me how calm I am as compared to him.

"I don't know how your mind works, Edward. I already said my piece – it is up to you what you will do next."

"And if I choose not to listen to you?"

"Then you'll lose me."

With that said, I stood to walk away from him.

Before reaching the steps towards my room, I stopped to say, "By the way, Jacob came to me at work, begging and pleading me. You were right – he's a dog. I finally saw his true face. He is an angry, conceited, sick man. And he knows about you; he knows you're Masen."

He looked at me with shock, and I left him there as I ascended to my room.

Once inside my room, I locked the door and took out my luggage from below the bed.

I then haphazardly took all my clothes from the closet and put them inside the suitcase. It only took me five minutes to get everything I needed.

I then took out my wallet to get the money for my rental payment. I also snatched the nearby pen on the lamp table and pulled out a piece of paper.

There I wrote:

_Edward_

_I'm leaving you the way you left me when we first met. I'm trying to keep you safe. Please don't think I am abandoning you, but I can't stay. First, because of Jacob … he threatened me, telling me he'd call FBI Agent Charlie Stanley about you if I didn't leave you and your house._

_But more than that, I am leaving to keep myself safe from you. I can't lose myself by living each day in regret knowing I hadn't tried everything to stop you from ruining yourself._

_I hope that by me leaving, you'll find time to think about what I told you. How I hope for you to have a second shot at life. I hope that you'll realize that there is no peaceful end to this path you have chosen. I hope that you'll let your friends help you, and you'll help them obtain a better life._

_Tell Alice I love her and I appreciated how she made me realize my feelings for you. She's my best friend after Angela._

_Tell Rosalie she's crazy and I love her because of it. And thank her for the way she stood up for me, calling you 'a selfish bastard.' It's sweet in a twisted kind of way._

_Tell Emmett I love him and I'm thankful how he easily welcomed me to your group. And tell him I am not so naïve anymore. I finally know what 'sleeping together' and 'do it' means._

_But most of all, Edward, I wanted to tell you that I love yo__u.__ I would do anything to save you, even distancing myself from you and breaking my own heart in the process._

_I hope I'll see you one day, finally free of your demons, and having a better life. And if not, know that I'll pray for you every day, hoping __that__ my prayers will give you a chance at purgatory__.__ We Catholics believe that God is so forgiving and benevolent that He gives everyone a second chance, even after death._

_I love you,_

_Bella._

Then I sealed the letter along with my heart, as a few tears fell onto the paper.

* * *

**A/N: Wrong move Bella. I know. It's not mature to escape. But give her a chance, she'll learn from this.**

**Betaed by the wonderful SunflowerFran.**

**Thank you for your time!**


	16. Chapter 16: A Step to the Unknown

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind 16**

**CHAPTER 16: A STEP TO THE UNKNOWN**

When I woke up in my hotel room, it took me a moment to register where I was. At first I thought I was still in New York, safely tucked in the bed Edward had provided for me, and that at any moment, I'd come downstairs to see his face and how he was already prepared for the day, seeming to never look tired or ragged. And I'd have a moment to inspect his rolled-out-of-bed hair.

But as I gazed at my surroundings and the blinding light emanating from the window, it hit me that I was now far from the hustle and bustle of the sprawling city. And though this is still a busy place, it was nothing compared to the chaos and the diversity of New York.

I'm now in Arizona.

I sat up, running my hand through my untidy hair, and skimmed my eyes towards the nearby table where a new rosary was laid on top. Mother Superior had given me the blue diamond rosary. I held it in my palms as I reminisce how it came to be mine ...

The moment I placed my letter on the table in my room at Edward's house, I took my luggage and carefully crept downstairs. As expected, Edward had gone to his room, giving me a chance to leave without his notice.

I had to walk briskly to reach the subdivision's gate so that I could hail a cab. All the while my heart was racing in paranoia, fearing that he'd notice I was gone and would find time to catch up with me.

As much as I wanted to stay with him, there was a part of me that wanted him to catch up with me. But I surged on, determined to do what I had planned.

Every step I took broke my heart.

Earlier that day when Jacob threatened me with his knowledge of Masen, I decided that the best way to deal with the situation was to leave Edward. It would seem like a coward move. However, I felt that it was the right course. I couldn't stay at Edward's side when I know he is taking for granted my presence. I would end up giving and giving everything to him as he would try taking and taking all. It is not a healthy relationship, and I don't want to make our situation worse.

I love Edward with all that I have – that I realized after I talked to Jacob – and it was enough for me to leave his side, and to give him a chance to mull over what I had said. And I felt that by me walking out, he would realize the importance of what I was trying to convey. If I have stayed while demanding him to change, he would only end up hating me and my persistence to change him.

I knew that I at least meant something to him. He would not try to keep me as he did if I weren't true. And by me leaving him, I at least hoped that he'd feel a loss, instigating him to reflect what mistake he was making with his life and why he lost me.

It was a far cry, but it was better than doing nothing; it was better than forcing him with my words to change…

Even if my heart breaks in the process.

The first place that I stopped before going to Forks, and inadvertently to Arizona, was my old apartment to look for my landlady.

Ms. Cope opened her door for me with a hint of surprise. I showed up with a smile, holding out a packet of paper bills amounting to one month of my payment of rental.

She seemed a bit taken aback at seeing me, but instantly regained her composure – and by that, I mean her permanent scowl – and ushered me inside. It was the first time she let me into her room.

I remember how I scanned her room as I took a seat in one of the two reclining chairs, settling my eyes on a well-preserved sepia picture of a young, handsome soldier on her wall. Her eyes followed my gaze. And suddenly, she spoke, surprising me that she was volunteering something personal from her life which she never did before.

"That was Mr. Garrett Howard. It was taken in 1943. I was sixteen at that time, and he was twenty, and he was about to go to war."

I tried not to pry, but I couldn't keep my curiosity, so I asked her "Was he a friend of yours? Or… more?"

She turned her gaze to me. Upon seeing her eyes, I read an ancient sadness that could only be explained by years of bearing too much pain. And for the first time, it made me understand why she always seemed distant and livid around people.

"He could have been my husband. He could have continued courting me. We could have been chaperoned as we strolled, or dined on the porch, or drank tea… But only his letters served as my companion for more than seventy years now. And every day I wait for him to take me wherever he may be."

Her eyes looked glassy as she recalled her painful past. There was no need for me to ask what had happened with her love – it was easy to guess the tragedy that had unfolded.

This was a woman who had her heart broken over the loss of a loved one. She was trying to look intimidating to others, showing her bitterness about life, because she never had a chance to heal.

I wondered if I would be like her in a few years if Edward wouldn't try to change and look for me.

Blinking back tears, I tried to be strong for the frail woman in front of me.

"You still have more years to heal, Ms. Cope. Mr. Howard wouldn't want to see you wallowing in misery over him. I'm sure he would have wanted you to be happy, and go on with your life, and probably even find yourself a husband – you're still young; it's not yet too late. You're only what? Sixty? Seventy? Eighty-seven is not too old."

At that, she scoffed, smiling a little at my attempt to cheer her up.

It made me question one thing though: if I were in her shoes, would have I followed my own advice? Moved on and found myself another person to love?

She cleared her throat then, turning serious.

"You're leaving, aren't you?"

She eyed my luggage.

"Yes. I thought I'd pay just one more month since I am leaving on a very short notice."

She nodded, and then took the packet of paper bills from my hand.

"Ms. Cope, I have to ask though – why did you suddenly share your past?"

She seemed to find it hard to phrase whatever she wanted to say before glancing at the picture of Mr. Howard on her wall. And then, a sudden calmness – almost serene – washed her face.

"How could I not talk about him? He's the only good thing that ever happened in my life. I died when he left. Today is the day he was supposed to come back."

At that, I approached her – hesitantly at first – and then initiated an awkward hug. She didn't hug me back, so I easily removed my hold of her.

And as I left her in her room, alone, the sight of her was one that I am sure I would carry with me forever. She had a warm and gentle expression on her face making her years younger, and I saw a bit of the lovely lady she was seventy years ago.

For the first time, Ms. Cope showed me her beautiful smile.

After my encounter with my old landlady and her heartbreaking story, I went to the next person I'd grown fond of in New York.

It wasn't hard to find the address of his shop printed on the calling card he had given me the day we had met, right before I left him for the auction. I arrived a few hours before he was to close for the day.

"Hi, Eric," I greeted upon going inside and finding him hovering over one of his customers and his employee. He looked shocked when he saw me, but immediately smiled a huge smile.

"Bella! I was beginning to think you'll never try to see me again," he exclaimed, walking the few steps towards me and hugging me tightly and warmly. Once we broke apart, my huge smile was in place.

"So, what brought you here?" He questioned, eyeing my luggage.

"I was wondering about something." I hesitated, scanning his shop instead, and how spacious and elegant it was as compared to the neighboring shops. It seemed that Eric was not your typical beauty salon owner.

"Why don't you come into my office at the back and we could discuss it over some coffee or tea?"

I smiled.

"I would love that."

Eric ushered me into his office. It was small, but strategically designed to fit everything he needed without it looking cramped.

One of his staff brought us coffee. I took a sip before speaking.

"Eric, remember the dress that I wore when you fixed my make-up?"

"The gorgeous white embroidered chiffon? Yeah."

I smiled at his description and the way he said it.

"I was just wondering if you could point me to anyone who would buy it from me."

He seemed appalled at what I've said, and then went on to detail how expensive the dress was, and who designed it – some girl from France? – and the materials used. He was adamant that I not sell it.

"Eric," I said when I got the chance, and he stopped speaking to hear me out, "I won't have any use for it, and the money can help a lot of other people." And the dress holds bad memories of who bought it, although the memory of the dance with Edward would be enough for my heart to break when I part with the fabric.

Seeing my serious expression, he took a moment to think as he sipped his coffee.

And then he said, "I'll buy it."

Shocked, I responded, "You don't need to do that."

He shook his head.

"Bella, I don't only own a beauty salon. I also own a shop for hand-me-down designer clothes. I could sell that dress for twice as much as I will pay you."

Hearing his explanation made me finally agree to his offer. He then wrote me a large check, which was at least three-quarters of the original price. At first, I declined the amount he had written, but he would not hear of it, so I had no choice but to accept it and thank him. I then took out the dress from my luggage– apologizing to Eric because I have packed haphazardly all of my belongings – and handed it to him.

After that, Eric told me – or forced me, whichever way – to have my hair styled. He offered it for free and told me he would style it himself, and that is payment enough for his service.

He cut my hair in layers, careful not to make it short as he 'loved my angelic look' with my long hair, and permanently curled the tips. The whole process took almost an hour and most of his customers were gone by then. It made me think that he was extending his opening hours for the day.

We were able to talk about his life, and how he was able to have his own business, training for some renowned and respected hair stylists as he styled me. He said that after his apprenticeship, he was able to save enough to start his own shop. According to him, he wasn't still at the level he was aiming for himself, but he was slowly getting there.

Right about the time he was done, a man of similar height and handsome but almost too soft features entered the shop. He made a motion to grab Eric's behind, making me turn in another direction and blush, before he kissed Eric on the cheeks.

"Bella, this is Benjamin, my boyfriend," Eric said as an introduction to the man. Benjamin smiled at me and offered his hand.

"Hi Bella. You have a nice skin, and I like what my Eric is doing to your hair."

I blushed deeper from the compliment as I mumbled a thanks.

When Eric was finished, I marveled at my new look. It seemed fitting. Gone are the natural waves of my hair. It makes me look bolder, as though I'm a woman now, and not the bumbling innocent anymore. I received compliments from him, his boyfriend, and even some of his employees, making me blush more as I thanked them.

Eric then said I needed the new look and that he knows I am going through a matter of the heart without me telling him. I was surprised by his astute intuition; he told me it was 'woman's instinct', garnering me a laugh.

As I left the shop, hugging Eric and his boyfriend, I saw Benjamin sneak a kiss to Eric's lips when he thought I wasn't looking.

They made me believe in love.

Leaving Jessica was hard. I was able to manage after my endless reassurance that I will call her all the time, but Mike seemed to be in his cheery mood before I left.

I remember Jessica wiping her eyes with her apron, and Mike openly patting her back as they both waved goodbye to me.

They strengthen my view that love can conquer all.

The flight to Forks was my chance to rest and sleep. I arrived the next day feeling a bit jet lagged and I immediately commuted to our orphanage. On the way, I marveled at the trees, the grass, and the greenery that I had rarely seen in New York. It was a nice view. However, I couldn't help but think that it wasn't the home I once thought it was. For some reason, I felt like I don't belong in there anymore.

The moment I stepped out of my hired cab – grateful that I even found one in Forks – I was greeted by the children from the orphanage. At first, they were all surprised to see me, unable to move. But after realizing I was really there, they all swarmed me, laughing and screaming in delight. I couldn't help but to be affected by their enthusiasm and laughed as well.

At that time, I was able to glimpse the church's entrance, immediately spotting my smiling best friend, Sister Angela. She approached me then and I had to carefully pry Sarah, one of the children, from hugging me so I could stand.

As soon as Angela was in front of me, she gave me a tight, warm hug. It never fails to amaze me how serene she looks in her habit, and somehow, it ignited more the decision I formed regarding my training.

We broke apart with her saying, "It's good to see you. It's only been a few months, but it felt like years."

"Yes, for me too. I feel like I've been gone for years."

She studied me and I cowered a little from her scrutiny. Angela also has the uncanny ability to make me feel that I am somehow being watched, as though she could reveal all my secrets with just one look. I love it about her, but for now I feel a little flustered.

"You've changed, as I knew you would. You're not little Bella anymore."

I nodded. "A lot has happened."

She smiled, but the scrutinizing eyes were still on me.

"I can see that. It was how I also felt after my mission – I felt like my eyes were suddenly opened to the truth that I've never seen before because of the sheltered life we've lived."

We were then suddenly interrupted by one of the children demanding my attention. I wanted to talk to Angela and confirm if I was doing the right thing, but the distraction was a welcome one for me as I realized that I had to do this without anyone's influence.

After a few more minutes with Angela and the kids, I was suddenly alerted by one more person coming out of the church. It was Father Ben. And I knew then that it was time to talk to him.

"Go," Angela whispered, giving me a cheerful tug.

I nodded, took a deep breath before I walked towards him.

Once I was in front of him, I took his hand to kiss his ring as a sign of my respect for his position. He then gave me a warm smile.

"It's been a few months Isabella. And though I am glad to see you, I am sure you must have your reasons for showing up too early from your mission."

"Yes, Father, I actually do."

He nodded in understanding.

"Well then, why don't you come in and we can sit in my study. I'm sure there are a lot of things we need to catch up on."

I nodded again, following him inside as he led me.

I briefly scanned our church as I walked down the aisle – the stained glass, the statues, Lord Jesus Christ on the cross at the very center of the aisle, the rows of seats for kneeling, the candles, the flowers…

It was as I'd remembered it growing up. Nothing has changed. Forks is a constant thing in my life, and it was then that I realized that I was the one who had truly changed. For staying there, looking at the place I grew accustomed to, didn't make me feel it was home for me. It didn't make me feel like I belonged there anymore.

We went to the side doors at the end of the aisles, which led to Father Ben's study room. It also serves as his office.

He took a seat behind his table and gestured for me to take the one opposite him.

He gave me a kind smile before beginning our talk.

"It has been almost two months since we sent you out, Sister Isabella. I believe you have learned a lot, had experienced a lot and formed your own opinions about the things you have never cared for before. I am much interested to hear them out."

I drew a huge breath before I spoke, thinking that _this is it: the moment where I will choose whether to stay on as a novice nun and continue with my mission outside, _or _leave the sanctuary of the church._

"First of all, Father, I would like to say how grateful I am for our church, and I am devoted to our religion and I believe in the teachings of the church. However, when I was out, I have to admit there were some things I have questioned and contradicted. I am fully aware that they are not usually condoned in church, but I feel strongly that not everything is black or white and these are the things I would like to discuss them with you."

Father Ben's smile grew as he said, "Well, Sister Isabella, pray tell what these things are."

I again drew a huge breath as I tried to summon my courage to speak my mind.

"You sent me to the inmates of New York. We were told never to judge anyone, and I am glad that we didn't. Most of them have stronger faiths than some of our brothers and sisters, mainly because they know that they have committed grave sins and they pray that God will give them second chances.

In my stay there, I have… I have met a murderer." I bit my lip before proceeding because I know this is something that I cannot openly discuss, but could at least try to explain without being too detailed.

"He was a lost soul. He kills people for a living. But his past is so bleak that there was no other way for him to live without the drive of getting even. with life.

We do not condone suicide or murder for they are cardinal sins. No one can take lives aside from the Almighty. But for this person, it's either of the two – it's either he kill himself because of the hard life he has dealt with or that he become a murderer. I am trying to lead him away from this life knowing that what he does is a cardinal sin. Is there no other chance for him? Couldn't he be like the Prodigal son and be welcomed back by the Father if he finds his way to His kingdom?"

Father Ben seemed to be contemplating what I have just told him.

Finally, he said, "I believe you said there are 'things', as opposed to just _one thing_ you would like to discuss. Why don't you explain the others as well?"

"Right, Father. Um, aside from him, I have also met others with similar situations. One of them steals, the other deceives people, and the last one deals with illegal things. However, I am quite certain, Father, that all these people are just as lost as he is, and given second chances, could find better lives. They are good people, Father. They have treated me really well, even going as far as protecting me." I remembered Rosalie and Alice's actions to protect me. They made me certain that there is hope for them yet. "And they can't help it if they couldn't find better means to live. They had hard times in their lives – one of them was forced by her parent to do severe things so she stowed away from home to avoid that – and they are just lost souls, Father.

"Also, I know that the church does not condone pre-marital sex. Or worse yet, homosexual relationships. But there are people out there who love each other the same as we do. I know one who forced himself to be straight, but couldn't escape who he really was. He tried loving another girl but felt he was cheating her out the reality of true love. How could he part her with Agape love if he is only deceiving himself? And now he loves another man with all his heart and all the love he can give. How is that wrong?"

Every word that I utter seems to make Father Ben look all the more contemplative, but there is a certain twinkle in his eye as though what I am conveying is entertaining to him. But I am not nearly finished yet. So I continued, getting more animated with each word, feeling surer of my convictions.

"And sex is the ultimate form of love, isn't it, Father? How then is it wrong to show that love to another? Believe me, my idea of sex after marriage has not changed. If I were to be fortunate to form my own family, I'd choose to do it after marriage. However, for other people, it is their way to show how much the other means to them. It is their ultimate gift. I couldn't see anything wrong with a gift.

Human beings are complex. Right and wrong isn't black and white. I feel like there is always a gray area. And not every _right_ is limited to the Ten Commandments, or what the Catholic Church has to say. Real life – outside life – is much more complicated than that. Not all are given the chance to know God, but as a church, we should be the ones to try to seek these people out and help them walk the path of God. And not simply condemn them because of their sins."

I didn't notice at first that I was already standing, but that is how I found myself after my long speech.

Standing.

And zealous.

I sat down.

"Sister Isabella, I think you have succeeded in your mission. And I dare say I am surprised how you stumbled upon all these realizations within a few short months."

"F-father?" I uttered in my surprise.

"It is always fascinating whenever I talk to someone who has come back from the outside of the church. To hear all their convictions and their formed opinions of the world outside these walls… You may notice, by now, that your true mission wasn't in aiding the prisoners – although that really is one of your missions. But no, our congregation sent you out so that you may form your own view of the world outside and how you mean to be a part of it … And how you would help the other people who are in it. And it is quite shocking to see someone as timid as you were before, to be the confident, strong woman you are now, with all these convictions and with all these experiences. You must have had quite an adventure outside, did you not?"

It took me a few seconds to find my voice.

"The most extraordinary adventures, Father."

"'Adventures,' hmm." He looked more contemplative.

"Father, so, was I right? About these people? About them possibly finding their way back to God? About wrong and right; good versus bad?"

"Do you remember our teachings about those four? The 'good', 'bad', 'wrong', and 'right'? How it can be both good and wrong, and bad and right?"

One of the lectures in my bible study flew back in my mind, and I nodded, suddenly having my epiphany.

There _is_ a gray area. All along. We were subtly taught of it, but we hadn't actually learned it… not until I went outside and learned it myself.

"We couldn't have learned it inside the walls of the church. Not unless we go outside and experience it for ourselves."

Father Ben smiled fondly at me. "Exactly."

"So, are you saying that I am right?"

He sat straighter, rearranging his features more seriously.

"Sister Isabella, you said so yourself – humans are complex beings. Everyone has their circumstances. And I believe people are not judged solely by their one mistake, but by everything they have accomplished with their lives. You know these people better than I do. So I ask you: are they condemned for what they have committed in their lives?"

"They did wrong: most of them. Stealing, deceiving, killing… But there is redemption. They could rise above it all."

Father Ben smiled: his eyes revealing knowledge and wisdom I've never noticed before until this moment.

"The things you mentioned, Sister Isabella, in the eyes of the church, are wrong. In Catholic principles, they are sinful. But are they in your view? Sinful? Wrong?

We always have the choice. No religion is perfect. God is God – we couldn't possibly have a transcript of His mind, and of what He thinks are acceptable or not. But we believe He is benevolent. He is good. And that is what we try to spread – His good words – so that people may find Him back.

He is fond of sinners more than those who are not – His son, our Lord Jesus – says so himself, for our God loves to collect the souls of the people who find their way back to His arms.

He is a forgiving God.

He is a loving God.

He is like our parents, who may scold us when we do wrong but couldn't truly abhor us. Who may teach us a lesson or two, but would open their arms when we realize our mistakes.

So, Sister Isabella, I ask you now, after all that you have seen: what do you truly choose? How could you better help spread the words of God? Would you stay in here, or would you rather go out?"

He leaned forward and looked at me with his piercing blue eyes.

"Do you still want to be married to God?"

When I came out after talking to Father Ben, it was already dark. I did not notice how long we must have spoken, but it was one of the most satisfying hours of my life.

I found Sister Angela in the kitchen, arranging our supper. She immediately smiled in delight once she saw me.

"It was always refreshing, wasn't it? After talking to Father of all the things you have seen outside."

I couldn't help but smile back in relief.

"Yes, it is. I never knew how open-minded he is, maybe because I've never argued with anything the church has to say before."

She looked at me knowingly. "And you do now?"

"Some."

She nodded, and continued chopping the vegetables. A few moments passed.

"Why did you choose to stay here?" I asked her.

"This is how I'm meant to spread the words of God," she answered nonchalantly.

"What have you… experienced?"

Sister Angela looked at me in the eyes as if trying to read something in them. I again felt naked in her gaze. She looked down before speaking.

"I saw the harshness of the lives of children in Africa."

"In Africa?" I asked in surprise.

"Yes. Women prostituting themselves to be able to eat… Children exposed to all sorts of diseases… AIDS, one of the most common reasons that people die… People killing other innocent people… I saw the injustice of life. I question, how can you condemn people who suffer? Was it a sin for their mothers to be prostitutes when it was the only way they can eat? I saw the children. All their potential, corrupted. They no longer dream – they feel that nothing will come out of dreaming things that will never happen. And I ask myself, if I go out, how can I help these people? I wouldn't be able to have the means. The church – by being _in_ the church – would make better opportunities for me to go there and help them. And it is my mission – _I _made it _my_ mission – for these children to dream again."

It took me a while to speak. And when I did, my voice sounded foreign to me.

"How can I be so oblivious? You went to Africa, and I didn't know?"

That made her laugh.

"Was that the only part you caught from all that I've said?"

I also laughed. "It was the only thing that I could relate to. I went to New York – all those diverse people, fancy people, poor people, sinful people, innocent people… And here you are, spreading the kindness of God to people of Africa."

"Different places, different circumstances." She smiled knowingly.

Just then, the kitchen door opened, revealing the person I most wanted to see when I came back. I rushed to her side to hug her tight.

"Mother Superior!"

She patted my head, saying in a delighted voice, "Now, now, child. We must observe proper decorum."

"I don't care Mother. No one can see us except Sister Angela. And she wouldn't tell."

She laughed, saying, "When have I raised such a rule-breaker?"

When I finally extricated myself from her, she made to inspect me, linking her fingers with my hair.

"You've grown. And so beautiful. I knew there was a reason you are called Isabella."

I couldn't help the tears that misted in my eyes.

"Shh," she admonished, "don't cry. You can always come back here. We will always open the door for you."

I nodded, wiping the tears that fell from my eyes.

"Must you really leave so soon? Can't it wait?"

"I've made my decision, Mother. And I plan on living with that decision as soon as I could. And that means I have to leave soon."

She nodded in understanding; her eyes growing misty as well. She placed her hand on my chest, right above my heart.

"Someone is in here, isn't it?"

It shouldn't have surprised me how easily she could read me, but it did. It never ceases to surprise me how swift Mother Superior can see through me.

"Yes, Mother. I wish I could let you meet him."

"There is still chance the next time. But Isabella, are you a hundred percent sure about this? About leaving?"

"Yes, Mother. I've never been surer of anything. I've never been as sure of any decision in my life. I need to go outside and create my new life there."

She nodded. Then she placed her hands on her nape to remove something. A blue diamond rosary dangled in her hands seconds later.

"Keep this."

"Mother, I couldn't possibly…"

"Hush now. No arguing with me about this, Isabella. You are my child. I raised you as my own. It's the least guidance I could give you."

I nodded, and then turned around so she could place it at my neck. When I faced her again, we both had tears in our eyes. I hugged her tightly, knowing it's the only goodbye that I could give her, and Sister Angela hugged as both.

The next day, before I left, I gave Father Ben the money that I had saved to help with the church. At first, they wouldn't take it, but I teasingly threatened that I will just drop it in the donation box, so they didn't have a choice.

The last thing I remembered before being driven by one of the catechists to the airport was Mother Superior's face: a mixed expression of loneliness and pride evident in her gaze.

Clasping the blue diamond rosary that Mother Superior had given me, I've never felt more eager and afraid…

Not to disappoint Mother Superior's belief in me…

And to live my new life.


	17. Chapter 17: Letters to Edward

**A quick A/N: Outtake 2 for Chapter 15 is up! It's Edward's take after Bella's departure. ^^**

* * *

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 17: Letters to Edward**

* * *

It has been almost a month since I left New York and Edward.

Much has happened.

Being alone is harsh, and even though I am determined, some days are just too hard.

I found that by writing these make-believe situations to Edward, I could escape my reality even for a short while …

* * *

_**What I've written …**_

_May 13, 2014_

_Dear Edward,_

_How are you? I hope this letter finds you well._

_I sent this letter anonymously (so obviously there is no return address), but I think you know who I am._

_I just wanted to tell you that I'm doing well. I am great. I am happy, and I haven't forgotten about you._

_I found this cheap __place to live__,_ _and have just enough food to eat, and it's warm in here, so I have no trouble sleeping at night._

_But I have a confession to make: sometimes, I have my doubts._

_Is there an outline – a map, perhaps – where I can easily spot the difference between right and wrong?_

_It was very easy to sound convincing, and mighty, and dignified when I told you that I loved you, and that I am doing the right thing by leaving. That was because I knew there was the safety blanket of my congregation wrapped around me at that time.__ But now, as I am trying to tread water on my own, and make my own money with what I am capable of – now, I see it wasn't that easy._

_But still, I am lucky and blessed._

_Even though I have no talents to boast of, or hidden skills that can help me establish my own business, or edge that employers would vouch for to hire me, people have been kind enough. _

_I've been doing contractual jobs – and by that I mean a different job_ _per day__.__ Such as working at a gasoline station (although, I realized I was not cut out for it), substituting as a waiter at a diner (even though I broke two glasses and one plate, the boss was very kind and still gave me my compensation), working as a janitress in a hotel (the labor isn't as bad as it sounds, and the people always greet me with a smile), and others.__ I can stretch the money for about three days, and after that, I'd have to find other work._

_Every day feels like a challenge._

_I realized one thing from this, though: that even when life outside the walls of the church is hard, if I strive harder and do better, I can make myself somewhat useful._

_So, did I do the right thing by leaving?_

_I think I did. _

_I feel very accomplished with what I've experienced thus far. _

_Only, I miss you terribly and I question again if I did the right thing._

-~oOo~-

**What really happened …**

I have exactly twenty bucks in my pocket and I didn't know where to go. I was in a park – Phoenix isn't usually cold, but it gets a little cold at night. My stomach lurched from being empty for too long.

Guess I'd have to sleep here on the bench, with an empty stomach.

Again.

* * *

_**What I've written …**_

_May 19, 2014_

_Dear Edward,_

_I'm staying in a __vigorous, sprawling city, with people from all over the country. They mostly maintain their accents from where they came from when they speak. I fancy the accent of people from Louisiana – they really sound marvelous. And I chose this place because I've been in Forks for too long before and wondered how radiant it would be to be under the sun constantly._

_It felt wonderful. I love it here. I wish you were also here._

_Today, I set out on a journey._

_It sounded preposterous, I know, but I wanted it to sound grand when I wrote it because it really is exciting._

_Clad in my cowboy boots, decent __knee-length shorts, a sleeveless blouse and a straw-hat; carrying my whole luggage in one hand and a liter of water in another; I marched a hundred miles (again, preposterous, but the walk was really long), determined to find a stable job._

_I think I might be able to be hired at this one job. I told you, I am blessed and lucky._

_I hope you are too._

_-~oOo~-_

**What really happened …**

My leg muscles are protesting; my shoulders, arms, legs, and nose, sting from being sunburned; and my throat is parched. I couldn't even let myself buy sunblock because of my very limited cash. And to top it all off, all the employers I spoke with today rejected me because of my lack of education.

But I will not give up. I will find a job where I can thrive, and prove to myself that I can make it on my own. If fate is intervening with my luck, I will not lose to it.

* * *

_**What I've written …**_

_May 27, 2014_

_Dear Edward,_

_There are three things that I love the most in this city:_

_First: the sun. Before, I always felt as if I was drowning in constant rain-shower in Forks (the place where I was raised), and now, I am always under the sun. I love, love, love it._

_The only downside is, it's hard for me to get tan. Why is that?_

_Second: the people. They are very kind. And helpful. And warm._

_They are like their city – with bright smiles and warm and helpful hands._

_And third: my cat. _

_Yes, I bought a cat. _

_I named him after you. I hope you don't mind._

_He was very chubby, and cute, and always makes me laugh._

_-~oOo~-_

**What really happened …**

After more than three weeks of my stay in Phoenix, I learned three things:

First, air-conditioners are devices sent from heaven.

If before I felt like I'm drowning from all the rain in Forks, now the glaring of the sun on my skin makes a mocking echo in my mind. It chants to torture me with my choice of leaving the congregation.

I don't get tan; I always get sunburned, because I still refuse to buy sunblock lotion when I could use the money instead to buy food.

And if I get lucky, I stay at the mall to cool off.

Second, I shouldn't leave my things unattended, even to go to the ladies' room. People may not want my clothes, but they sure could easily find my secret stash of cash from my luggage.

That broke my heart.

And third, if having no money and no food and no shelter wouldn't kill me first, loneliness and solitude would. So I decided to adopt a cat. I can't afford an apartment yet, so I rent rooms by the hour at night to sleep and set out the next day to find a stable employment.

I still haven't had much luck.

I feel so alone in the world sometimes and my cat makes me feel less miserable and pathetic.

I decided to call him Eddie. I found him in the streets – a stray like me – so at first I thought, would Belly have been more appropriate?

But then he looked at me with his green, sharp eyes, and I knew, Eddie it is.

* * *

_**What I've written …**_

_June 1, 2014_

_Dear Edward,_

_Attending Mass __today was enlightening – as per usual. But the sermon was of friendship, and I miss Angela, Rosalie, Alice, Emmett, and Eric (my gay friend), and Jessica, and surprisingly, even Jacob._

_And I – desperately – miss you._

_I lit candles for each of you._

_But don't worry about me. I am doing great._

_-~oOo~-_

**What really happened …**

I couldn't stop my tears.

Everything in the church reminded me of my friends in the congregation.

Every person I meet, I couldn't form an acquaintance with without being reminded of Alice, Emmett, and Rosalie.

A drunken man followed me tonight. I remembered Jacob, and how Edward saved me from him.

And every little thing reminds me of Edward.

* * *

_June 2, 2014_

_Dear Edward,_

_I miss you -_

_-~oOo~-_

_**…**_

I tried to control the tears that were spilling on the paper, crumpled the page, and once I'm calmer, I started another composition.

* * *

_**What I've written …**_

_June 2, 2014_

_Dear Edward,_

_I have bad news._

_Eddie – my cat that I named after you – left._

_And if I got this affected by a mere cat – who couldn't even manage to keep quiet at night when I am trying my best to sleep – I imagined how hard it might have been if it were really you who left, when I needed you the most; when I desperately wanted someone to be with me._

_And how it felt when I also left you with just a piece of paper._

_But I'm forming friends with new people now._

_I am moving on with my life._

_I hope I won't miss Eddie much, and you, with these new people in my life._

_-~oOo~-_

**What really happened …**

I still couldn't believe Eddie left – he was my only companion in this big, strange city, and now I feel ever the more alone.

After dropping my letter off to the company that specializes in sending anonymous letters, I left the place wondering again, where I will sleep for the night.

An hour later, I have my things placed at some back alley and was trying to get some sleep.

Tomorrow, I will try again to get back on my feet.

But for tonight, I'll try my best to find get some sleep out on the cold, cement floor.

* * *

_**What I've written …**_

_June 3, 2014_

_Dear Edward,_

_I searched for Eddie everywhere. His color is unique – he has spots of white, black and brown – but I couldn't find him._

_And I really have to search for another job – the last one had good pay, but I didn't like it much._

_So with a heavy heart, I walked again._

_And never looked back._

_But I guess that's how life is, right?_

_-~oOo~-_

**What really happened …**

I was propositioned as a prostitute today. Luckily, I was able to escape the man who scouts girls and who was forcing them to sell their body.

I prayed a lengthy prayer that night before going back to sleep, having enough money to rent a room so I didn't have to worry about the sordid man.

Chanting Edward's name was my last memory.

* * *

_**What I've written …**_

_June 9, 2014_

_Dear Edward,_

_I finally found a job! And yes, I am under probation, but a job is a job! And under probation means at least three months before I can be permanent!_

_I would be working at an art gallery. It is a night shift, but that was no problem for me. The pay is good._

_Basically, I just have to stay there, from four in the afternoon to twelve midnight, and then I get to go home._

_I'm not afraid of the dark, but I bring with me the rosary my Mother Superior gave me for extra measure._

_You can never be too safe._

_But I shouldn't dwell on that too much right now. I found a job, which means food money, shelter money, and savings money!_

_I went to church right away to pray and donate my remaining money. No matter: I'll get it back tomorrow._

_-~oOo~-_

**What really happened …**

There is still hope for humanity.

Because when I went to the nearest diner today, a woman saw me, scanned my appearance, and took pity on me.

She took me into her apartment, brought me food, allowed me to bathe, and gave me a job.

I went to church right away after that to thank God for the wonderful woman – Kate. I couldn't offer anything else, save for a pence, but I felt like I was giving everything with that small amount.

God is good.

He didn't leave me.

I might still not have a job, and the gallery job I write to Edward was a terrible excuse, but now I see that I can still hope …

And now I sob – not from loneliness, but from the gratitude I felt from my savior.

* * *

_**What I've written …**_

_June 12, 2014_

_Dear Edward,_

_Remember my job? At the art gallery?_

_I got a raise!_

_I never told you before what I do, but I help my co-worker, Kate, organize events, and we are always able to wear dresses on event nights._

_I make sure to be modest with what I wear._

_I still haven't forgotten about you, and I miss you._

_I hope you're as happy as I am._

_-~oOo~-_

**What really happened …**

I'm getting paranoid.

There could never be any other explanation.

Kate offered me a job at a club as a janitress; I am past refusing any income at this point – as long as I am not doing anything illegal or immoral, I'd try anything – and I get to work from six in the evening to two in the morning.

So it is still dark when I finish my shift.

However, whenever I would walk towards Kate's apartment – Kate offered to split rent with me – I get the feeling I am being followed.

I never walk alone. I try to walk where there are people out as well – the good thing about a populous city – but I still feel like I'm being followed.

And here's the craziest thing: I'd chant Edward's name endlessly like a prayer the whole way through, as though saying his name will protect me from whoever is out there.

I hope I'm not going crazy.

* * *

_**What I've written …**_

_June 16, 2014_

_Dear Edward,_

_Everything is well._

_I am earning as much as I could now, and I'm adjusting to my job._

_Kate is very sophisticated – our customers adore her and admire how she hosts these auction events at the gallery. She is very classy, and our clients would comment on how pleasing she is to talk to._

_As for me, I mostly work behind the scenes, but just looking at Kate inspires me to do better each time._

_I slept well last night – tired, but happy._

_-~oOo~-_

**What really happened …**

I woke up from a nightmare of Jacob Black following me.

For some reason, I have this feeling that the man following me after my shift was indeed him, Jacob Black.

But that's just crazy. I left – no one knows where I am.

But Jacob is a filthy rich, powerful man. It's easy to hire someone.

I hope I'm wrong.

* * *

_**What I've written …**_

_June 20, 2014_

_Dear Edward,_

_I dreamt of you last night._

_I don't know – there must be something about this day – but I feel like I'm missing you more than the usual. Like, this is a special day._

_I prayed for you harder, and I missed you even more._

_And about that dream I had of you, I still wish it will come true one day._

_-~oOo~-_

**What really happened …**

Kate came home with a bruise. She told me a man got too forceful on her.

I helped her with her wounds, but I don't think I could help her with her heart.

She is emotionally fragile, and selling herself to be used by men was taking a toll on her. However, there was nothing else she could do.

Like me, she started as a janitress at the club, and somehow, one night, she found herself finally giving in to the need to earn more, and subjected herself to prostitution.

And now, it was hard for her to get back to her feet.

We cried together.

That night, I dreamt of Edward, Alice, Rosalie, and Emmett.

I dreamt that we all were happy and free of our demons.

I dreamt I was in Edward's arms.

I dreamt that I was kissing him.

* * *

_**What I've written …**_

_June 24, 2014_

_Dear Edward,_

_A few days ago, I thought someone was following me whenever I go home._

_Turns out, I was just really paranoid._

_The person following me was my co-worker, Jasper Whitlock. He says he didn't want me to go home alone at night, but he also didn't want to impose on me because I seemed too independent._

_As if following me wasn't creepy at all._

_Who is Jasper, you ask?_

_I work with him at night, with Kate. So, no, I don't get to stay at the gallery alone at night._

_Did I leave that part out?_

_Anyway, Jasper has a car, and offered to drive us to our apartment every night for our safety._

_There are always good people out there._

_-~oOo~-_

**What really happened …**

I was followed again at night.

This time, I set to find out who was following me.

When I got the chance, I hid behind a wall and waited for the man to pass by for me to see who he was.

And when I did, I easily identified him.

He was Jasper – Jasper Whitlock. A regular at the club.

Tall, lean, honey-blond haired, Jasper is one of the handsome customers the club has.

He's always around James Nomad – the gang leader, it seems, who was brutal and was the one responsible for Kate's bruises.

I don't know what's Jasper's deal with me is. He is usually quiet, as compared to the gang's leader and some of the members, and always seemed aloof.

I hope he doesn't have anything to do with Jacob Black.

And I hope he doesn't intend to do me harm.

* * *

_**What I've written …**_

_July 8, 2014_

_Dear Edward,_

_I can't help but think of Alice whenever I talk to Jasper._

_He's really into paintings, and he and Alice would be able to speak endlessly about art._

_And he's really funny._

_Heidi – one of my co-workers – doesn't seem to like me much ever since Jasper talked to me, but I didn't see what the problem was._

_Heidi is gorgeous, tall, and curvaceous, and has long, golden hair._

_Jasper is tall, lean, and honey-blond, and has the most charming smile. And is Southern, too, so a complete gentleman._

_My point is, if Heidi likes Jasper, she should just tell him. Someone like Jasper would never be interested in someone like me. And I didn't mean that to say I am ugly; just that she's far too gorgeous compared to me, so she should just ask him out. And it's not as though I like Jasper._

_He couldn't hold a candle to you._

_-~oOo~-_

**What really happened …**

Jasper finally talked to me.

"You're Bella, right?" was what he only asked.

"How did you know?" I answered back - alarmed.

He only smirked at me – an attractive and dangerous-looking smirk – and then walked away.

I had goosebumps all over my body.

Later that night, Heidi, one of the club's strippers/prostitute strutted towards me, and in one swift move, dumped the content of her liquor glass in my face.

Sneering, she said, "Jasper is mine. Stay out his sight, bitch".

Then walked away.

* * *

_**What I've written …**_

_July 10, 2014_

_Dear Edward,_

_Time is flying, it seems._

_It has been almost three months since my stay here._

_But still, the thought of you will never leave me._

_Work dragged, as it should. Days and nights come and go, as they should. But I still can't get you out of my head._

_I contemplated drinking to forget – although a short while – my stupid decision of leaving you._

_But then I remembered how you always seem to know that I don't drink, and I couldn't even dare to get one sip of champagne._

_We have events at the gallery twice a month to auction paintings, and we wear these outlandish dresses, and I remember how you held me that night at the auction as we danced._

_You spent a million dollars for a dance! I still couldn't believe it._

_And Jasper showed me his new car, and I remembered how you taught me to drive a car._

_And Heidi played the piano, and I remember the sad melody I heard that night you bared a little of your soul to me._

_You're everywhere. _

_But nowhere, all at the same time._

_I look for you in newspapers, but I couldn't find you._

_Did you finally stop the killings? Were you just more careful?_

_I felt relief when I couldn't find your name, but sad all the same__ because _I couldn't find your name_. _

_I found one about Jacob – seems like he's expanding his business yet again, the obnoxious dog._

_I hope he honored our bargain and was not troubling you any longer. And if not, please don't do him harm and just avoid him. He may have a twisted character, but I still don't want you hurting anyone anymore._

_But what about you? And Alice, Rosalie and Emmett?_

_I called Angela and Mother Superior. I was even able to get in touch with Jessica and Eric (both were furious that I didn't call sooner). And I'd wonder about Ms. Cope- our previous landlady, remember? – and worry about her (she's too old to be living alone)._

_And then I'd miss you. _

_Like an endless cycle. _

_I'd think one thing – find time to think other stuff – and then I'll come back to thinking about you._

_Is that progress – that I am able to think about other things in between the thoughts of you?_

_I write cheerfully in these letters, but the truth is that I am still miserable. And I am still missing you._

_My sunburn is gone; my hair __has grown a little longer; I got a little tanned; but nothing has changed._

_I still miss you._

_I still pray for you._

_I still wish to see you again._

_And I still love you._

_-~oOo~-_

**In addition to that day …**

I decided working at the club seemed like trouble for me, so I resigned. I left Kate, with the promise to get back to her when I found another job.

She was crying when I left, and I was, too. But if being there meant I'd attract more danger for the both of us – especially with Jasper seeming to stalk me – I decided that I should stay away from her instead, and come back when I have the capability to truly help her get away from her work.

This means finding a new job, fast.

Which sounds like I am escaping yet again.

I found myself following my previous steps back to the first place I went when I came to Phoenix.

More determined than ever, I set out to right my wrongs.

* * *

_**What I've written …**_

_September 2, 2014_

_Eddie came back._

_He was too thin and dirty, but he came back._

_And I knew that I would, too._

_-~oOo~-_

* * *

I surveyed my apartment once again. Nothing seemed amiss.

I checked the electric outlet, and the wires were unplugged. I checked the cabinet, and they were all securely locked. I checked the inside of my luggage again – all my clothes were in neat piles, and my bible was at the top.

All right. Time for me to go.

I found a job at a real art gallery, just like what I have been writing in my letters, from an Italian owner named Eleazar. I couldn't believe my luck – working in the art gallery, just as I've imagined.

I found that by writing these make-believe situations to Edward, I could escape my reality even for a short while, and feel like I am still connected to the world somehow. But now, I am more determined than ever to face it.

It seemed like all I was doing was running away, and I can't run away forever.

Eddie did come back – the last two entries were as real as they can get.

But as I packed my things, I just didn't have it in me to leave Eddie alone in my apartment, so I asked Kate to look out for him. She easily agreed, asking for a week's worth of my quesadillas as payment when I come back.

When I left Kate almost two months ago, promising her that I'd come back and help her, she told me that it was a wake-up call for her, and that she also wanted to stand on her own.

She left her job the next night, and worked as a nude model for art students instead.

It wasn't degrading at all, she says. For art students, viewing her body wasn't lecherous but artful. They needed to understand and study the shape of the human body unhindered by clothes by drawing the model naked.

She made it her full job, leaving our previous apartment for a new one and leaving her old, abused life in one go.

I also suggested that she seek help, and she is now attending a regular seminar by the nuns near her new place.

And now, all I have to do is leave.

To go back to New York …

To see _him_ …

I checked my carry-on bag for my plane ticket and my money. I've done this three times now, but you could never be too sure.

I glanced in the mirror again – my skin lost its tan because I've been constantly working the night shift and rarely go out in the morning, so it's back to its usual pale color. I've grown bangs; my hair ends at my elbows, but maintains the curls. I have gotten thinner, due to the many times I couldn't afford to buy food, and I have bags under my eyes, from the many times I cried myself to sleep or couldn't sleep at all. The rosary from Mother Superior around my neck was concealed by the white Sunday dress I was wearing, and the dress shows just how much weight I've lost.

Great. I'm going back looking like a zombie. Much like Eddie did when he came back to me.

But it's now or never.

With a heavy intake of breath, I took hold of my luggage, placed my carry-on bag on my shoulder, and walked towards the door.

However, when I opened my door, what greeted me was something – or rather someone – I never would have expected.

For a man was directly in front of me – his arm extended as though he was about to knock on my door.

My breath was knocked out of my lungs.

I blinked three consecutive times, finding it hard to associate what I was seeing with reality.

But the reddish-brown hair was unmistakable.

"Edward?" I asked; surprised; thrilled; unbelieving.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, and then closed it quickly.

Then, after a few seconds, he finally found his voice – his musical, velvety voice that I missed so much.

"Bella?" he whispered; expectant; apologetic; also unbelieving.

And I knew I was _finally home_.

* * *

**A/N: I made some research, and yes, it's possible to send anonymous letters with no return address.**

**Thank you to Fran for this. I know she had a bad headache when betaeing this. If it weren't for her, this whole chapter will be chaotic and confusing.**

**Thank you to all of you as well for still hanging in there!**

**I'm excited for the next chapters. ^^**


	18. Chapter 18: To the Person that I Love

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 18: TO THE PERSON THAT I LOVE**

"Bella?"

When I opened my door, all thoughts fled my mind. Because there, on the other side, was the one person I ached to see the most – the only person that could make my dormant heart feels alive again.

My throat went dry and I felt a combination of happiness, surprise, and longing.

It took all of my self-control not to crush him in my arms at that moment.

"E-Edward? I-is it really you?"

He swallowed twice, arms still extended as if to knock at my door, a conflicted look in his face.

He still looked incredibly good – my memories and the nights I spent dreaming about his face never giving him justice – but he looked a little bit different than usual, as though he was suffering just as I am.

There were bags under his eyes, his hair was messier, and he seemed slightly thinner. It comforts me to know that we've been going through the same thing.

"I, um," he uttered, lowered his hand, and then he shifted his eyes to my hair to say instead, "your hair is different."

"Oh, a friend of mine styled it."

I ran my fingers through my hair as an impulse.

Edward nodded and took a huge breath before speaking.

"I need to talk to you."

I bit my lip.

"Of course. You wouldn't travel all the way here just to comment on my hair," I said lamely, trying to diffuse the tension between us. However, I only made things more awkward.

Not knowing what to say next, I opened the door wider and told him to come in.

He sat on my second-hand loveseat – the only chair in my cramped apartment – running his hands through his hair.

I stood leaning on my door, arms across my torso, waiting for him to break the silence.

"This isn't how I imagined your place would look," he commented, making a show of scanning my room.

"Oh, yes, it's smaller than the one I had in New York, but the rent is cheap, so…" I trailed off, still feeling awkward around him.

He took a few more seconds before speaking again.

"Were you about to leave? You seemed to have packed your things."

"Yes, um, but I don't think I'll go anyway."

_Especially because the only reason I was going in the first place was to see you again, and now here you are._

He nodded, swallowed, and then finally looked at me.

"I read your letters."

And the questions I have for him came flooding my mind.

How did he know I was here? How is he? Alice? Rosalie? Emmett? Has Jacob talked to him…? Or, worse…? Does he have any news about Ms. Cope? Did he stop killing people? What is he doing here? Does the FBI have any more knowledge about him being Masen? Did my letters pester him? Can I admit to lying about everything in my letters?

But he was here to talk, and he has his reasons for coming, so I kept my mouth shut and waited for him to speak.

"Bella, I have been thinking a lot since you left – no that just sounds pretentious." He scoffed. "I mean, I can't even begin to describe how I felt when you left. You were just …"

Seemingly more frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair again, pulling the roots, and huffing.

I approached him – hesitantly – and made to sit beside him on the loveseat. He surprised me by suddenly grasping my hand in his.

And there it was – the tingling sensation.

Suddenly, in that instant, I was alive. Every nerve endings like a live wire, every breath, labored.

And then, the serenity; the calmness; the reassurance that he really was here, and that I wasn't dreaming.

Too close that I can still smell his scent – honey butterscotch, mint, and a manly scent that I can only associate with him.

It was overwhelming.

He played with my fingers for a while as he seemed to regain his composure.

"After telling me how you felt, I holed up in my room for hours like the fucking coward that I am, and when I found your note, I was too late.

I didn't know where to find you, and I didn't know what to do. Alice told me I almost gave her a heart attack when she found me in my room later that night because the house was a wreck."

He smiled a little at this, but the hurt he felt that time was evident in his eyes.

"Y-you wrecked your house? You destroyed your furniture and stuff?"

"I think I might have blacked out that time – I don't know, the memory was fuzzy. I didn't remember doing it."

I huffed in disbelief. He still had that smile on his face.

And then I chuckled, because that was just a ridiculous reaction, and I told him just that.

"It was ridiculous, yes," he agreed.

"So, what then? What happened? Why are you … here right now?"

I still can't truly grasp the concept that he's here, a few inches from me, close enough for him to hold my hand like this.

"I was a grumpy emo shit for a week or two. I was very hard to live with. I kept drinking, getting wasted until I passed out and then did it all over again the next day. I couldn't do anything. I was a mess.

Then, one night, I started really thinking about what you had said – about distancing yourself from me to keep yourself safe. I never would harm you, Bella. Not intentionally. But by simply being me, by existing like this, I am harming you. And I don't want to do that.

Then the letters started coming."

He took a second to pause – lost in the memories he was seeing.

I briefly wondered if this was the right time to come clean to him on the lies I had written in my letters. But I didn't want to break his momentum, so I kept my mouth shut.

"At first," he finally continued, "I thought, yes, you did the right thing. You're having a good life – a better and peaceful life – and it gave me reassurance that the best way for us is never to see each other again, just as you said. So I tried to get on with my life and do my usual routine.

Then, while I was planning for my next …" he looked at me in hesitation, but then he continued what he was saying, "killing, I just realized I couldn't do it anymore. Seeing your face when you were telling me that I can't continue with this life and that you're trying to save me.

I was wrecked with guilt – not because I was taking away lives, but because I felt like I was disappointing you.

Here you are, this innocent, pure, breath of fresh air of a woman, and I was the proverbial killing-machine. It eats me how rotten I am compared to you.

And yet you claim to love me, past my sins, past my monstrosities. You believe I can still be saved. It is hard for me to grasp how you could do that."

I was too engrossed in his story that when he looked at me and took a strand of my hair to tuck it behind my ear, I was a little taken aback.

"You really are an angel, you know that?"

I looked down, blushing from his compliment. But then he took hold of my chin to nudge me to look up at him again.

"Please. I've lived without your face for four months now. Don't hide it from me."

_I felt like I would pass out._

I was sure my face was the reddest it has ever been.

He smiled my favorite crooked smile.

"What happened then?" I asked to break the tension. And this time, he finally smiled a genuine smile.

"Alice is what happened."

"Alice?"

"She's really good at tracking people down. Although you sent your letters anonymously, she knew there were only a number of companies who do that. She narrowed them down to all the places in the U.S. that are always flooded with the sunlight you wrote about in your letter. And from those, she lowered to the populace cities that could have a cluster of people with different accents, just like you wrote."

"Oh. I wasn't too careful I guess."

"You'll not last a day doing what we do," he teased.

"She realized that you must be in Phoenix. Of course, the sender wouldn't give details about you, but she thought you could not be too far from the vicinity where the company was located, and from there, she started her research. It took her longer to track all the art galleries where you could possibly be working, but last week, she finally had her lead."

_Of course, it was hard to track the art gallery where I worked because the letters were filled with lies._

"It was a good thing she came back to this one art gallery – feeling as though she must have missed something – and she saw you at the front desk. And from there, she followed you here."

That astonished me.

"I didn't notice her following me."

"I told you she was good."

I imagined Alice hiding in the shadows, and Jasper doing the same thing a few months back.

Alice must have been really good – I never once noticed her presence.

"Wait, you talk about tracking me down as though Alice is the one who did the entire thing. So, you didn't help her?"

"I never knew she was tracking you. She kept on saying she was on a job, and I guess I was just too down that time that I didn't care about anything else. She only told me yesterday about all of this."

Everything still sounded too much. I felt like this doesn't happen in real life.

But this is my life, and my reality. And it was all happening to me.

"So, she told you about me yesterday, and now you're here."

He looked directly into my eyes – his own eyes filled with so much emotion that they look like they were melting – and then he cupped my face.

"I don't have the strength to stay away from you anymore.

I thought I could – live without you.

But I couldn't.

Not anymore.

Especially now that I know how much you mean to me. Call me selfish, conceited – call me all the names you could – but for now, I just want to be with you. And when Alice told me where you are, I didn't even think. I just hopped in my car, and next thing I knew, I was on a plane, flying to where you are."

A humorless chuckle escaped his lips as he muttered, "Since I'm going to hell, I thought, why not do it thoroughly?"

"You know how I feel about that, right? About your soul?"

"Hmm. Why don't we just agree to disagree on that?"

But I don't want to back down.

"For now," I firmly stated.

"You're really stubborn, you know that?"

I stayed away from him for four months even though it was breaking my heart. I kept pretending that I was all right in my letters even though it was far from the truth, and I kept insisting about the beauty of his soul even though he claims otherwise … I guess he's right about my stubbornness.

"I think I really am."

He chuckled.

"So, what now?"

He had that smile on his face, as though he was enjoying a private joke, as he caressed my cheek.

"Well, now, here I am, risking everything by seeing you. The FBI is probably following my trail; Jacob Black is still after me and you – the stupid mutt has a hard time understanding the concept of giving up the chase. My Boss is probably ready to kill me after I told him I'm not working for him anymore; and I'm ignoring all my instincts to protect you and to stay away from you, by risking your safety. Basically, here I am being a selfish asshole hoping there's still a room for me in there."

He carefully placed his hand on my chest – close to my pounding heart – to indicate the place he wants 'a room'.

I could feel heat on that particular area he was touching.

Yet, I didn't know how to respond to him.

Do I throw my arms around him?

Kiss him senseless?

Make a joke out of it?

But, of course, being me, what followed was me saying something very stupid.

"You're completely out of your mind."

I blushed from embarrassment and he chuckled – from my words or my blushing, I'm not sure.

"Oh, Isabella, I think I'm going crazy, however fucking cliché that sounded."

_I think I'm going to cry._

"So, Bella, do I have it? A chance? To finally be happy with you and basically don't give a shit about what will happen next?"

And the look in his eyes … oh, is this how he begs?

I really think I'm close to hyperventilating.

I saw him lick his lips.

"As if you have to ask …"

Before I could finish my sentence, however, suddenly, his lips were on mine.

Nothing had prepared me for all the sensations that flooded me at that time.

At first I was shocked that my eyes were opened as I see his closed.

And then, I closed them because it just felt right to do it that way.

And because I closed my eyes, the sensations of kissing him intensified.

And all the energy and heat spread out on my body.

_So, this was how kissing feels._

The kiss started slow and sweet.

Edward was obviously aware of my inexperience and was being a complete gentleman by guiding me slowly into it.

He took my upper lip in his and nipped on it.

He cradled my head and tangled his hand in my hair.

He slowly drew me closer to him.

It was good.

It was nice.

It was more than nice.

It was …

And then, what I did next surprised the both of us.

I started attacking him.

With all the sensations clouding my rational thoughts, I kept feeling the longing to be closer to him. There was one word the kept repeating in my mind:

_More. _

_More. _

_More._

It was almost instinctual when I pulled him closer to me, to elevate our sweet kiss to frantic, gasping, breathless, needy kissing.

I tangled my hands in his hair, relishing the feeling of finally being able to do it.

I started tugging on his hair as I leveled my body with his.

And I started breathing harder.

I knew Edward was a little shocked – I felt his body stiffen – but then I felt him shiver before he responded just as enthusiastically.

He accommodated my kisses and put his tongue at the entrance of my lips.

I opened to him eagerly, and our tongues met, fighting for dominion.

He tasted so good, like wine, and his smell was so intoxicating I feel like I was getting dizzy.

I felt him hovering on top of me as his hands traveled from my hair, down to my shoulder, and finally, he encircled his arms around my waist, leaving no escape between our bodies.

It was a sensation overload.

And then, in a sudden move, he hitched my leg over his, and I felt like I was on fire.

Out of nowhere, a question formulated in my mind: _was I doing this right?_

But if there was any indication that he was enjoying himself as well, it would be in the noises he was creating.

I could hear his labored breathing and groaning, which sounded very pleasing in my ears.

And somehow, these noises were mixed with the noises I was producing that I've never once thought I could.

And as though we had one mind, and with us both out of breath, we parted.

He kissed my nose, my forehead, the edge of my lips, my neck.

And finally, he pecked my lips once, twice, and three times.

It took a moment for us to calm our breath, and then I finally opened my eyes.

I was greeted with Edward's emerald eyes looking at me and his mouth still gasping for air.

Breathlessly, and with a foreign sounding voice that I've never used before, I asked, "Did I do it right? I so badly want to do it right."

He looked confused for a moment, as though he was finding it hard to process what I just asked, as though his mind was as muddled as mine.

And then he showed his relieved, reverend, and crooked smile, and it turned into a happy laugh.

"As if you have to ask," he muttered, repeating what I've just told him before he was kissing me, with his voice still breathy and raspy.

He kissed me again then – sweet and short – and we both started laughing giddily, breaking our sweet kiss.

"That was fucking awesome, Bella. It was so far from what I've imagined kissing you would be like. You are fucking amazing, you know that?"

His face was only inches from mine, and I could clearly see his glowing smile, as though he was a man filled with darkness for so long and for the first time, he finally found his light.

This, I found absurd because I think it was me who should look like that.

"I love you, Edward. I was planning to come back today, but you beat me to it.

I wanted you to know that I love you, and I accept who you are and that I will never leave you again."

The look that he gave me then was so loving and full of happiness that for the first time, I could not see a trace of the anguish I usually see in him.

It made me tear up how happy he was.

When he saw my eyes misting, he wiped the corner of them and said in a solemn voice.

"I wanted to be with you, and I wanted to be worthy of you. I will strive hard every day to be the man that you need and want, and to protect you.

I love you, Bella – enough to leave my past behind, and enough to want to start a new life with you. I have never felt love before – never been in love before – but I know this is it, the real emotion. I am a monster who wants to be a good man for you. Teach me, Isabella.

I know I sound fucking cheesy, but I really mean them. I love you – from the moment I saw you in that crappy apartment in New York. I saw you as an angel saving me.

You are still saving me.

And I love, Isabella Swan – damn it, I love you."

The tears were uncontrollable now – they kept spilling and clouding my vision and Edward hushes me as he wiped them away.

"S-so, y-you'll change, is that what you're saying?" I asked sobbing hard.

"For you, I will, for you I'll give up everything."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to Fran. She made some suggestions here which _just worked_! And of course, thanks for her amazing beta skills.**

**I wish I got to kiss Edward too. *sighs longingly***

**Be prepared! This will be a looong day for them. A lot of things will happen.**

**Also, if you didn't catch the last A/N update, Outtake 2 on EPOV is up! It's what happened to poor Edward after Bella left in Chapter 15.**

**Thanks lovely readers!**

**Unusually chirpy,**

**-Trisha-**


	19. Chapter 19: The King of the Underworld

**A/N: Hi! Before you read this, I just want to say that my beta decided against some parts of this chapter, saying they were unnecessary. But because of my selfish whims, I still put them here. If you wouldn't like the extended scenes, I just want to say that the fault would be totally mine.**

**Again, thanks everyone!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 19: KING OF THE UNDERWORLD**

When we broke apart from the kiss, a thousand questions resurfaced in my mind. Even though Edward and I had finally revealed our feelings, there were still a lot of things we had to address.

I started with the one that has been nagging at me since he arrived.

"Edward, what happens now?"

"What do you mean?"

I sat straighter, but I didn't extricate my hold of his hands.

"I mean, I'm a bit concerned about what you told me – the FBI, Jacob, and your … 'Boss'? What are we going to do about them? What if Agent Charlie Stanley already has his sights on you here? They must suspect you. I don't know – remember at the auction, when we danced there? They must have caught that on camera and saw our faces. It didn't really occur to me before, but they could easily link me to you. We can't just hide forever – they're bound to catch up with us.

And Jacob." I was growing hysterical when I think about all the people that are probably after us. "He told me to separate myself from you. And there was something about Jacob that I just can't trust; something about his manner that seems more dangerous, something wicked that he appears to be hiding well behind his Billionaire, CEO character. When he finds out we're together again, he's going to lose his mind, and who knows what he will do next?

And you said something about the Boss. You never mentioned him before, but you said something about your Boss being furious because you left. Who is he anyway?"

"Shh," he hushed me with an unconcerned smile on his face. "Didn't I just ask that we don't give a shit about them? Can't we do that? Just for today? Please, humor me. I want to spend more time with my girlfriend if you don't mind. And you, mentioning all the names of these other men, isn't boding well for me, and my ego."

And almost immediately, the worries subside, easily replaced by my embarrassment over his casual reference to me.

"Girlfriend?"

He laughed in amusement.

"I know it sounds silly, because I feel you're more than that, but it's what society would label what you are to me."

I tested the word in my mind. _Girlfriend._ It didn't sound quite right.

"So, you're my boyfriend." We both laughed at this – it just sounded way off. "How did that just happen? You're my boyfriend now?"

"Well, Miss Swan, you attacked me just a few seconds ago if you remember. There I was, going for a simple kiss, only wanting to show you how it is done, and then you just attacked me like a savage woman. That, my love, is how I became the boyfriend."

Now, my blush was full on – I was the savage girlfriend who kissed him senseless and now he calls me 'my love.'

Everything is just so surreal.

"You didn't seem like you regret it, so don't blame me if you let yourself get attacked."

He moved his head closer to me to whisper in my ear, "Far from it – I quite enjoyed myself. Your lips taste so good."

I shivered from his words. He drew away from me with a chuckle, noticing my reaction.

These emotions were all new to me, and strange, making me wonder if all along, I have these compulsions towards him and they were just repressed because of the sheltered life I led in the convent.

"So, where were you headed? All your luggage is here, and you said so yourself that you were about to leave. Where are you going?" Edward asked, breaking the charged atmosphere between us to gesture at my packed belongings.

"Oh, I won't be going anymore."

He arched one of his brows, asking me to elaborate.

"I was planning to come back to New York. I was expecting to see you again. But now you're here, so I'm not leaving – not without you anyway."

He smiled beatifically, and then he kissed my forehead.

Edward and I decided to go have an early lunch since it was almost eleven.

And so here we are, walking on the sidewalk on yet another sunny day in Phoenix. However, this time, instead of the sun glaring its harsh rays on me, it was smiling brightly.

It was a welcome sight for me.

I marveled at the difference and decided it was all Edward – everywhere I go will be gloomy without him, and any place where we are together is a happy place for me.

I observed Edward then – noticing that I didn't pay attention to what he was wearing before because I was pre-occupied with what he had to say and what happened afterward. But now, under the bright sun and far from the temptation of kissing him senseless I could pay attention to every little detail that I missed so much in our four months separation:

There was his hair – his ever-tousled, reddish-brown hair, which was messier because of the number of ways I pulled it when we were kissing.

I loved that.

It felt like I was leaving my mark on him.

Then there was his jaw-line, more pronounced now because of him seeming to have lost weight but was as chiseled and manly and … yes, I liked it. It seemed … sexy – that was the word. I wanted to run my hands over it. It makes me wonder if it could cut cheese, or butter or … if I could bite it …

I looked down, blushing from my wayward thoughts. I've lived with him before, but never truly appreciated all that makes him so attractive. But now, I feel as if I was seeing him with new eyes.

I looked at our hands – he had entwined them very casually when he helped me down a flight of stairs from my apartment, and he never let them loose once.

I liked it.

A lot.

That he helped me, and more than anything, that he never let me go.

And his tight-fitted jeans; the way they hugged his legs and his waist and his behind …

And his gray shirt; button-down, two of the upper buttons opened, a little creased from me running my hands on them when we kissed. Showing a little of his chest and some hair … showing his muscled arm … showing …

"You keep looking at me like that and I wouldn't care about all these people passing through – I would kiss you right here at this very pavement."

"Oh." I looked down again, embarrassed from being caught ogling him.

He halted, making me also stop walking.

Carefully I looked up to see him smiling amusedly at me.

He cupped my face, and then very swiftly, he pecked my lips.

Startled, I snapped my head to see if people were staring, or if they saw what he did. But no one was. They weren't paying attention to us.

Edward quietly laughed, and then he started walking again, urging me to walk as well.

And then suddenly, he stopped.

I felt him stiffen a little.

"Edward, what's wrong?"

He wasn't moving, but his eyes seemed to be surveying the people.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

He started walking again, and I was growing anxious. He seemed to be walking a little stiffer.

"Edward, you're scaring me."

"Someone's following us."

"What?" I asked, alarmed.

"Let's just keep walking. Don't worry; I'll deal with whoever it is. But we can't make a scene when we have all these people around us." He put his hand on something in his belt, and for the first time I noticed something was in there, hidden behind his jeans and shirt.

"Edward, is that a g-gun?"

"Precautionary measures. I can't go anywhere without it."

My heart drummed.

Why hadn't I noticed before that he was carrying a gun? We even kissed and all that …

He seemed to notice my alarm, and he drew me closer to him to put his arms around my shoulders.

"Here's the diner, let's go inside, and I'll deal with him later."

I nodded, still alarmed.

Who was it following us? One of Jacob's men? The FBI? A man his Boss had sent? There were just too many people after him; nowhere he went would be safe.

Edward led me inside, into the farthest booth from the door. We sat opposite each other and I fiddled with the condiments on top of the table.

"Bella, stop worrying, he's gone."

I snapped my head at him.

"He is?"

"He left the moment we set foot inside."

"How could you be so sure? What if he's just waiting outside or something?"

"Calm down. Whoever it is won't harm you, not while I am here. And he isn't waiting for us outside, all right?"

"But that's the thing Edward. It's not my safety I'm concerned about – it's yours."

He smiled confidently, as though whoever was the person following us was no match for him.

"Don't be like that. What if the individual after us was sent by the FBI, or Jacob, or this Boss you were talking about? What if he's not just one person, and there are many of them? Edward, you can't just tell me to calm down and not worry when there are so many people that could be after you."

He clasped his hand in mine.

"Bella, trust me – whoever it was following us couldn't be better than me; no good tracker would be good enough if I were able to notice him immediately. I'll deal with him later, but for now, just please stop worrying, okay?"

"You promised," I reminded him, appalled by what he said about 'dealing with him.'

Edward rolled his eyes at me.

"I won't kill him, if that's what you're worried about. There are other ways."

I wasn't too keen on 'the other ways' as well. Edward, reading this from me, drew his fingers between my eyes to flatten my worry line.

"Please, forget about him, for me? I just got here. And I'm starving."

I nodded, letting it go.

"For now," I warned.

He sighed but dismissed it. The waiter came just then.

I still couldn't shake my anxiousness when the waiter placed the menu in front of us. He was saying something to Edward, but I was too focused on trying to guess who could be following us to comprehend any of the words being exchanged in front of me. For some reason that I couldn't place, I felt like I should already know who the person was, but I was having a hard time analyzing why.

And then I looked up, and immediately, I saw red.

The waitress – not waiter – was talking to Edward. Her bright red hair was obscuring my view of her face, but her curvy body was indication enough that she must be pretty. She was leaning a little closer to _my boyfriend_ and was commenting something about him. Edward looked as if he wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying – his eyes were glued to the menu in front of him – but he responded and then the …_ bitch_ … laughed in an unusual, high-pitched way, and _she slightly ran her long, blood red nails over my boyfriend's hair._

I couldn't control what I did next.

"Can you please stop flirting with my boyfriend?" I said in a voice full of venom, cutting through the girly laugh of the waitress.

Edward snapped his head towards me – surprise written all over his face, and a mixture of … wonder?

The bitch-woman turned her head towards me, and she looked really sheepish.

"I'm sorry ma'am but I don't know what –"

"You know quite well what you were doing," I said airily, arching one of my brows, and crossing my arms in front of me.

In my periphery, I think I saw Edward smile.

"That's not what I meant; I mean, I didn't know he was with you."

"Oh what, I am invisible now?"

It seemed eerily quiet, and I could feel all eyes looking at us, probably finding entertainment in the possessive girlfriend lashing out at the poor waitress.

But I couldn't find it in me to care at that moment: all I could care about is that the _bitch_ was trying to take something of _mine_.

"No ma'am," she said ever-the-more embarrassed, "I didn't know you were his girlfriend."

"'Ma'am?' Do I look too old for you?"

She bit her lip as if she didn't know what to say.

"Look here," I glanced at the name on her nametag, "–Jennifer, the next time you ask your customers for their order, ask them _the order_ only, and don't try to _ask them out._ Firstly, it is improper – I'm not even sure why your manager is allowing it – to flirt with your customers, and secondly, try to address them properly. You look even older than me and you're calling me 'ma'am'? And the next time you even as look at the direction of my gorgeous boyfriend, I will hammer your head on the table, understand me?"

"Yes, miss," she answered, swallowing and looking down.

"We want another server," I announced.

"Of course," she said, and then scurried away as fast as she could, as I rolled my eyes to look at my menu again.

It signaled the end of the commotion so the local diners finally removed their eyes from me.

"Bitch," I muttered, trying to read the words on my menu, but having a hard time understanding even a single letter in front of me.

I heard Edward sniggering. I looked at him, and he had the most amused face I've ever seen him – his eyes looked as though they were even twinkling.

Realizing how out of character I had acted, I looked down with a blush on my face. He sniggered some more, and then he put down my menu to take my hand in his.

Carefully, I looked up to see him still amused, but his expression was now combined with pride and happiness.

"I love everything about you – please don't change a thing."

I bit my lip and felt my face flaming some more. Now that I think about what I just did, I felt a twinge of guilt for having been acted so rudely and so possessive.

"I'm sorry – that was embarrassing. I can't believe I said those words to her."

"No, I love it. And I'm yours so it was your right to claim me." He kissed my knuckles. "I just never thought having you jealous could be this enjoying, and that you can even be jealous in the first place. It's surprisingly pleasant."

"I was stupid – I probably looked very stupid."

"No, you're adorable – and you looked very sexy being possessive."

I blushed some more and Edward laughed some more.

When the next waiter – thank heavens he is a _waiter_ now – arrived, he was very apologetic of the waitress Jennifer. I dismissed the apology, telling him that I should be the one to apologize for lashing out on Jennifer, and asked him if he could pass it on to her, and everything went smoothly from there.

We have taken a few bites of our food when I opened the topic of Edward's 'Boss' again, asking him who he is.

"Don't concern yourself about him anymore, Bella. I'm out of the gang. I know he won't take it easily, but I have my plans."

"Edward, please, tell me. You have never once said anything about you and your life. I don't have any clue about your past, or why you were … why you became _Masen_," I whispered his alias, darting my eyes around us to check if anyone heard me, having a hard time saying the word 'killing' instead. "Don't you trust me to keep everything a secret?"

He swallowed his food before he spoke again.

"I do trust you Bella. I just don't want to worry you unnecessarily."

"I need to know these things Edward; I'm in this for life … that is, if you want me for life," I mumbled the last part, a little bit insecure that he wasn't as committed to _us_ as I was.

"Of course I do," he assured me without even as a blink or hesitation. "But I'll tell you only when you really need to know. Bella, I don't want you to worry."

"Edward, please?" If he couldn't even tell me this, I felt as if there would always be a gap between us, no matter how much we try to be together.

With a sigh, he nodded. "All right, I'll tell you. But first, I want you to know that I will do whatever it takes to protect you, and you have to promise to trust me on that."

I nodded, and braced myself for what he was about to tell me.

He took a sip of his coke before he spoke.

"Bella, you have to know that I don't have any other family. I'm an orphan like you. But I had a family before, and they were …"

His lips trembled and I knew he couldn't talk easily about his past. I took his hand in mine and nodded at him to show him that I was listening and that I was here with him.

"I understand if you can't tell me about them yet. Just the thing with your Boss – that's the only story I need to hear for now. I can wait for the rest."

He looked into my eyes, finding something there, and whatever it was that he saw me; it urged him to continue speaking.

"I grew up in the streets, just like you. But someone took me in when I was fifteen. It was my Boss – Aro Volturi; of the Italian Mafia."

I gulped, tightening my hold of his hand, and bracing myself to hear about this Aro.

He leaned forward… closer to me, as though he was afraid any of the diners would hear our semi-private conversation.

"I knew what Aro did but I still went with him. He _… understands_ my predicament. He knows what I want. And he helped me, but I knew that help would never be free.

I met Rose and Em there. And a few years later, I brought Alice. He employs many people; has chains of establishments, businesses, especially in the underground. Some of them are legal, like the hotels and bars but others—the more important and more profitable businesses— are the ones on the black market."

Seeing my confusion, he elaborated, "Drugs and Meth; theft – autos, jewelry, paintings; and the ones I do."

"Killing diplomats, politicians and other influential people," I mumbled in a slightly quivering voice.

He nodded.

"He employs hundreds to do all the dirty work, and trusts few. I was one of the trusted ones because he knew of my determination to complete my task."

I realized that the 'task' was the one related to his past.

"But because I know so much, he couldn't just simply let me go. The smart thing to do would be to get rid of me, but that would mean he'd lose someone who knows all the ins and outs of his businesses, and knows the weaknesses of all his enemies. I don't merely act as the hitman, Bella. In truth, I only killed fifteen people – the lowest count for a hitman – and I have my reasons for killing them. Cullen Enterprises, under my pseudo name Anthony is just one of the few businesses I handle for him. He trained me quite well so to lose me is to have the possibility that he would be defeated someday by his enemies. He is very arrogant and is feared by everyone who knows him. Being overpowered is a concept he has never encountered before."

Edward was right. I was worried – more than worried; I was scared to death.

How can he ever escape this Aro guy?

"You said you have a plan."

He finally sat straighter now that he had told me the hard part.

"It isn't a final one yet – I have to consult with Alice, Rose and Em first before I execute it – but the fundamental principle is I have to defeat him."

"You promised me you'd never kill anyone anymore." There was no question that I was quivering now.

He sighed.

"I did. I wasn't planning to kill him, and he wasn't on my list of people to kill. I swore before, even before I met you, that I would only kill the people who …" He looked down again, still finding it hard to talk about his past, and after a few seconds, he exhaled to say instead, "I told you, there are other ways."

"What are these ways?"

"I have to put him behind bars. There is an excellent chance that he could escape, but if I'm successful, when he gets out, all his businesses will already be shut down, and he won't have any other way to come back on top."

This is too much.

I can't grasp all that he is telling me.

I've lived with Edward before; dined with him; kissed him; shared his bed for a night; and I didn't know just how deep and complicated his situation was.

But on one hand – and a twisted part of me realizes this – I find what he told me about himself quite amazing. He is only twenty-eight, and yet, he has all these big things rolling over his palm. And it makes him all the more surreal for me.

"When is your birthday?"

He arched his brow at my random question.

"The twentieth of June, why?"

"Oh my! That was why I thought there was something special on June twenty. I read it before, in my document about you that I got from Mr. Jenks. Remember in my letter? Dated June twenty? I told you that I felt there was something special about that date, right?"

I was feeling hysterical. The thing with Aro Volturi, the 'Boss', turns me into a mute, but forgetting Edward's Birthday turns me into the frantic girlfriend.

Edward was laughing fully now.

"So what, you're twenty-nine now?"

"Yes, I am. Why? It alarms you that you're dating someone very old?" he teased.

"No, of course not. I'm already twenty-three. That makes you only less than six years older than I am. It wasn't unheard of. And I am of legal age, so it's not as though you are my sugar daddy."

"What?" He laughed. "Where did you learn such language? You called our waitress a 'bitch' back then, and now you say 'sugar daddy'. I never even heard you curse."

I took a bite of my food and swallowed quickly before speaking.

"I worked at a club before, and one of the strippers there named Heidi, who has a sugar daddy, told me that I'm a bitch."

"What? You worked at a club?"

Oops. Did I slip?

"Yeah, as a janitress. I didn't tell you that in my letter – actually, there were a lot of things in those letters that were omitted."

"Bella!" He said my name as though he was scolding me.

"I'll come clean about that … later, all right?"

He sighed. "What am I going to do about you?"

I bit my lip sheepishly, and then he lifted the hand that was still on his to kiss my palm very carefully, as though I'm something that he can't afford to lose.

When we finished taking our early lunch – with _my boyfriend's _insistence that he pay for the meal and him leaving quite a hefty tip – Edward and I walked hand-in-hand outside, this time at my insistence to go to the grocery store. I reckon since Edward told me he was only staying at a hotel, he'll be spending more time in my apartment in the duration of our stay here. And because I was low on food supply, I have to restock my almost-bare pantry.

"I'll just wait for you here – it's pretty hard to hide _this_ on the metal detectors," Edward declared right outside the thrift shop as he subtly pointed at the gun he was hiding on his belt.

I nodded. Then I remembered something.

"Wait, you told me Alice followed me here, right? So are they here as well, or are they staying in New York? I have to ask because I don't know how much food I have to buy. Emmett eats quite a lot."

"You don't have to cater for them, but yes, they will be here as well. Alice texted me before I got on the plane that they wanted to see you too – said she was hoping for a vacation–," at this he rolled his eyes, "–and around this time–" he then checked his watch, "–I think it will only be a few minutes before their landing."

"Right. I'll buy lots of meat for Emmett," I said with a smile and a wave.

It took me half an hour to buy all that I needed – not enough time to weigh my grocery options as I would like – but my eagerness to see Edward and my knowledge that he was waiting for me outside made me hasten my movements.

However, my disappointment was almost instantaneous when I found him missing at the spot where he was supposed to be waiting for me.

Then I panicked, thinking that he probably left me or that everything that happened today was just a dream and I was only being absurd.

Then I panicked some more as I remembered that someone was following us before and feared that he had done something to Edward.

"Edward?!" I shouted in alarm. He didn't show up.

A woman in red looked at me in worry, so I ran towards her to demand if she had seen Edward.

"Edward who?" she asked in confusion.

"My boyfriend – tall guy, reddish-brown hair, handsome, grey button-down shirt …" I said these all in a hurry.

"Doesn't ring a bell," she answered, and I broke into more hysteria.

Suddenly, someone said, "Wait, you said handsome, reddish-brown haired, right? I think I saw him go there."

I looked at my left, at the source of the voice. The girl was pointing at the shady sidewall of the Thriftway; the view was slightly hidden from the sidewalk people.

"Thanks," I said in haste and I made a run on the direction she pointed.

However, when I got there, what I saw made me stop on my tracks.

For I realized that I was right; Edward was with the man following us. And he was right as well; the man was no match for him for I saw Edward clasping the man's collar and pinning him to the wall, with a gun poised at his skull.

That was reason enough for me to feel horrified – Edward promised he won't kill anyone anymore, and here he was pointing a gun on the man's head.

But more than that, I felt shocked …

… Because I realized I recognize who the man was.

And I was right again – I _did _know who he is.

"Jasper?!"

Edward snapped his head at me as he tightened his grip on Jasper's shirt.

* * *

**A/N:** **My birthday is on June 20. Exactly the same as Edward's. (Just something to brag about.)**

**Next chapter is still a continuation of Edward and Bella's very long day. I kept thinking I'll be able to squeeze everything in just one chapter, but both of them will say something that would lead to another stuff, and next thing I knew, I was already over four thousand seven hundred words.**

**I hope you're still not sick of their reunion day.**

**(Two A/Ns in one chapter? I'm getting talkative. Sorry...)**

**Thanks!**


	20. Chapter 20: World of Paradox

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 20: WORLD OF PARADOX**

"Jasper!"

Tightening his grip on Jasper's collar, Edward turned his head to me to shout, "Bella, stay out of this!"

"I-I know him. He was following me before. He's Jasper Whitlock, part of James Nomad's gang."

I shakily put down my grocery bags as I carefully thread my way to where the two men were hunched over.

"Stay away, Bella."

"You promised!" I reminded him, looking pointedly at his gun.

Edward huffed, and then said in a slightly lowered voice, "I know, and trust me, I know what I'm doing." Then he turned to Jasper to say menacingly, "What do you want from us?"

Jasper turned furious, but he kept his mouth shut as he looked away instead.

Edward punched him hard in his stomach, effectively loosening his grip on him, which resulted in Jasper tumbling down on the dirty pavement, on all fours, coughing and spitting blood.

I took that opportunity to come closer to Edward and cling to his side. He took hold of my hand, and then he pointed his gun back at Jasper.

"I just asked you a question, didn't I, Jasper Whitlock? What do you want from us? Answer me!"

With a feral glare, Jasper snapped his head to Edward. Then he defiantly spit blood in front of him, which almost touched Edward's shoe.

I gulped; conflicted.

On one hand, I do not want Jasper killed, but on the other, I can't even begin to imagine what I would feel if Edward receives any blows from him.

Edward flicked the trigger of the gun, which created a crunching sound.

I tightened my hand around his in fear that he will pull the trigger. However, he gave me a reassuring squeeze and I exhaled, realizing that whatever Edward was doing was merely to try and warn Jasper; a move to frighten him into talking and that no harm will come to him.

"Do you have any last words, Jasper Whitlock?" Edward warned; Jasper glared at him.

"Go to hell, _Edward__ Cullen_," he spat.

Edward went a little rigid, probably as stunned as I was that Jasper knew his real name.

"Why were you following us? What did you intend to do with me?"

"I don't know – the same thing you did to my father perhaps? Morgan Whitlock, remember him?"

At the mention of Jasper's father, Edward seemed to grow into more shock as I felt him begin to shake.

"Of course, how could you remember?" Jasper continued seeming to feel satisfaction at Edward's wavering. "You've probably killed a thousand anyway. What is one man compared to a thousand?"

Suddenly, we heard noises approaching close to where we are located. And almost simultaneously, Edward lowered his gun to hide it from the view of whomever it was approaching us, and Jasper, having seen what Edward did, took that opportunity to slip away from us, running at full speed from the shady hallway.

Then, the intruder came into view, and spoke in her familiar and usual melodic voice.

"I knew you'd find trouble the moment you get here," she teased, striding coolly to where we are.

Both Edward and I huffed in shock.

"Alice, Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me! Look at what you did – the bastard fucking slipped away," Edward exclaimed in exasperation. Contrary to his words, he finally calmed down enough to hide his gun again in his belt where I noticed it has its casing.

"What were you gonna do with him anyway if I didn't show up? Kill him? I don't think so, he's not in your plan. And seeing how Bella clings to you like a Koala – no offense Bella," she looked at me briefly before returning her gaze towards Edward, "–I'm thinking you already made your promise never to kill anyone. I saved you from a potential awkward moment where you can't just leave him be, but you can't make him think you're weak or refraining from killing him. You should thank me instead."

"He's Morgan Whitlock's son," Edward said in resignation.

Alice didn't even look surprised.

"So? Was he any good?"

"No, he's an amateur."

"Good then, glad he didn't inherit his bastard father's skill. The old shit might have been a true devil, but you can't discount that he wasn't one of your easy kills. He gave you real trouble from what I recall."

Who is this Morgan Whitlock?

As though instinctively, Edward clutched his belly at the area where I have previously tended his wounds when we first met.

"Bella," Alice then called out. I turned my head from inspecting Edward to look up to her. "You're a shitty liar, do you know that?"

I blinked, having a hard time processing what she was saying.

"Your letters – they are all a pile of lies. Jasper Whitlock was a co-worker at an art gallery, eh? It took me four weeks longer than necessary to find where you really were!"

"I-I'm sorry," I stuttered; guilty.

"Well, just be thankful that I missed you enough to forgive you." She rolled her eyes at me.

I finally cracked a relieved smile.

"I missed you too – so much."

"Come here." She opened her arms for me, and I ran to her to hug her as we both squealed.

"You're a magnet for disaster, did you know that?" She said after we broke apart.

"Well then, thank God I have you guys to always count on to save the day."

* * *

It has almost been half an hour since I arrived at this restaurant. I remembered how Alice talked Edward and me into having our first date once she found out that we were officially together.

The whole exchange was quite comical.

After the Jasper ordeal (which Alice and Edward acted as though it never happened, I tried to forget the whole thing, too.) Alice told the both of us to come to the hotel where she, Rose and Em were staying. Since I missed them terribly, I pleaded with Edward to see them. He was obviously dismayed, muttering how 'they were ruining our reunion day', but he seemed unable to turn down my request – a weakness I am starting to see I could use to my advantage – and agreed with poor grace.

Of course they'd have to rent the penthouse, God forbid these criminals would rent a boring, standard hotel room.

The moment we arrived at their hotel room Emmett instantly pulled me up into a bear hug with just enough time for me to put down the one grocery bag that Edward wasn't carrying. That was followed by Rosalie tackling me to the ground while exclaiming that 'she won'.

At my confusion, she explained why she was suddenly claiming herself a winner.

Apparently, she and Alice had a bet on how long it would take Edward to say the 'L' word to me, and Rose won, betting on Edward saying it a few minutes after he saw me. Alice bet he'd said it the exact moment he saw my face.

Edward find the two girls annoying, but since he didn't want to be separated from me he stayed at my side, having to deal with Emmett's constant teasing about him tailing me by 'taking hold of the reins of my skirt'. Emmett then received a sudden blow to his nose, causing it to break and bleed. Edward was too fast for Emmett to anticipate his move – which Emmett just laughed off, teasing Edward a little more about him being 'whipped'. The two girls just shrugged as though it was an everyday occurrence while I gaped, stunned.

Then the questions about my letters followed, especially from a furious Alice. I had no choice but to come clean and tell them everything. About the cold nights in the park, the janitress work at the club, about Kate, the gang-leader James, and, of course, Jasper Whitlock.

I then told them about my cat, Eddie and that brought a round of laughter. Apparently Edward hates cats and hates the name 'Eddie' even more. He was very moody the day he received the letter which I wrote about my cat. His pouting was quite comical if I say so myself. When I was finished, Alice looked ever-the-more furious.

"I can't believe you left us to go hungry on the streets – what were you thinking Bella?"

I bit my lip sheepishly.

"You could have been raped … or worse. _Jasper _Whitlock__, God knows what Morgan's son is truly capable of. You even met fucking James Nomad – that bastard is infamous for his lecherousness in our world. What if he took a liking to you …?" I winced at this; however, Alice wasn't nearly finished yet. "… And what about Jacob? He's been on our trail since you left. You really think he'd let you go that easily? And how about the FBI? Not to mention, it will only be a matter of time before our Boss discovers why Edward was slacking off and wavering to stay on his turf. You can never hide from him once he sets his eyes on you.

God, Bella, that's the thing – you weren't fucking thinking."

I didn't want to dwell on the 'or worse' part, and the other more dreadful possibilities Alice had pointed out, though I couldn't help but to flinch.

"Did you really even work at an art gallery?"

"I did." I perked up on this. "At least, I did work at an art gallery, eventually. I've been working there for a month now."

Rosalie, who was uncharacteristically quiet, decided to pipe up.

"We have to get back on Heidi."

"Heidi?"

"She called you a bitch."

Of course, expect Rose only to hear that part of the story where Heidi threw her drink after she caught Jasper talking to me.

"No need to do that, Rose. I kind of understand her. And besides …" I hesitated, remembering the whole commotion brought by me at the diner this morning.

"Besides what?" Rose prompted.

I looked helplessly at Edward for support, but he was still not passed his shock of all the _mis_adventures I had just recounted.

"I might have taken a lash to a waitress in the diner this morning when Edward and I were having our early lunch," I mumbled sheepishly.

Rose looked at me questioningly, asking me to elaborate.

"It's no big deal, but I saw this girl flirting at Edward and I just, I don't know, erupted?" I posed more of a question than a statement.

"Erupted? Erupted how?" Asked Alice, who still couldn't get over her annoyance at me for lying and for taking off, but was curious enough to hear this new story.

There was nothing I could do then but to recount my embarrassing lack of control in the diner.

Once I was finished, it was Emmett who first hollered in laughter. Edward, who finally was passed his shock, had an amused smile playing at the corners of his lips. Being the reason why it all happened, he seemed a little bit smug, as though my being territorial had boosted his manly ego.

Then Rosalie beamed at me and we made a 'high five' – mine was awkward from my shock at her sudden reaction.

And finally, Alice cracked her smile, clearly choosing to ignore her anger in favor of the humor of this new story.

After all the reactions from my written lies and my story of the waitress, I decided to drop another bomb, choosing to come clean all at once.

"I have something else to say," I stated as a way of starting my confession, alerting all four of them, causing them to re-focus their attention on me. "There was also something else that I have been keeping from all of you."

"Oh God, what now?" That was Edward, coming to stand beside me, a look of pure horror on his face.

"I really don't know how to say this with enough preamble, but … I'm a training nun."

"What?!" Emmett and Rose exclaimed in unison. Alice kept her mouth shut – I already told her about it so it was no news to her. Edward looked speculative.

"What I mean is, I '_was' –_not '_am' –_ a training nun. But I sorted all of it out. I, err, went back to my congregation to tell that I'm opting not to continue with my training and that I was leaving the church. I realized I was not cut out for it, and that I wanted different things." I briefly glanced at Edward, and he met my gaze with a contemplative look.

"Alice knows about it," I continued, facing the other three again. "I told her before. I'm sorry I kept it a secret. It wasn't something I was privy to share – I was told never to tell anyone about it. I just really needed Alice's guidance before so I told only her."

"Wow, dude," Emmett guffawed, breaking the silent shock from the group, "I said you were fucking a nun, didn't I?! To think I was right? This is hilarious."

"Shut the fuck up Em!" Edward barked. "Or I'll break your jaw for you after I make sure your nose can never be straight again."

"Come on, man, tell me it wasn't funny? You're a fucking murderer and you got yourself a lover nun!"

"I told you to shut the fuck up!"

"Cursing in front of a nun – not a Christian thing to do, eh, Eddie …"

But Emmett was cut short by Edward drawing out his gun and pointing it at him. I really didn't believe he'll shoot Emmett – and all of us knew that – but it was still shocking, for me at least.

Emmett made a show of raising his two arms – palms up – in defeat.

"Whoa, getting a little pissed, aren't we. This is funny – you're so fucking whipped, dude, I never knew I'd live to see the day." Emmett said all these while trying to control his laugh, clearly unconcerned that a gun is pointed at him. And then he suddenly added in a lowered voice, "Sorry about all the cursing Bella."

It was Rosalie who coaxed Edward to lower his gun – albeit a bit nonchalantly, I must add.

"Oh, come on Edward, don't be such a baby – it _is_ a little funny. Bella's a nun–"

"–Novice nun–," I corrected her, but no one seemed to hear me.

"–And we're all a bunch of criminals. Hallelujah! If you kill Emmett, it will take at least an hour before you're finished cleaning his blood, and you just got Bella back so don't you think it'll be wiser to spend it with her instead?" She ended with a roll of her eyes.

Edward sighed, as though agreeing that killing Emmett w_ould__ be_ a waste of time. As he was putting his gun back to its casing, I think I heard him mutter, 'Motherfucker is in luck …' but I couldn't be sure.

"All right," Alice then chirped, suddenly sounding unusually jubilant. "Now that we've established Edward is crazy-in-love with Bella–," at this it was Edward who rolled his eyes, "–and Bella was a former nun–"

"–a novice nun–," I corrected again, but no one paid any attention,

"–and that killing Emmett is a fucking waste of time–,"

"–Hey, I'm right here!–," Emmett exclaimed, earning the same zero attention they paid me,

"–I think it's time for the lovebirds to finally have their very first date."

_Where did that even come from?_

"Rosalie? What do you think?"

Edward echoed my thoughts as he exclaimed, "How did you even draw that conclusion?"

And just how Emmett and I were ignored, Edward received the same cold treatment from the two evil girls.

"I think you're right, Alice," Rosalie agreed contemplatively. "Bella grew up in a church, so she'd never been on a date before, and they skipped all the usual mushy stuff and moved fast to saying the 'L' word. I think they need to date."

"Yay!" Alice exclaimed, clapping her hands like a three-year-old. I've never seen them act so childish before – my mouth was hanging open in shock the whole time. "We'll give Bella a makeover, and Edward needs to plan the perfect date!"

"What?" Edward looked as confused as I was.

"You need to go, Edward. Give her the best date ever; bring her somewhere fancy; take time to be romantic. Go! And suit up!" Rosalie ordered bossily.

"But–,"

"Hush! The clock is ticking!" Edward wasn't even able to put a word in between her before he was being pushed by Rosalie out of the room.

I pathetically waved goodbye to my poor boyfriend's retreating figure before the door closed in his face.

Turning around, Evil Bossy Rose made to clap her hands as though she was dusting dirt.

Then she spotted Emmett, and her poor boyfriend's eyes almost popped out once he realized he was the next subject to her dictatorship.

"Em, honey," Rosalie said in a suspiciously, too sweet voice.

"I'll go after Edward and make sure he reserves a table or a limousine or a fucking horse carriage or some shit."

And just as fast, he was gone. Rosalie had a satisfied smirk on her face when she turned to us.

I gulped when the two girls shifted their eyes to me.

"I-I think I'll make sure I have the dress in my suitcase …" I tried to wedge my way out.

However, the two evil girls were relentless as they both scolded, "Bella, not so fast!"

Throughout the time that they were readying me for my forced date, Alice and Rose were telling me a little about their mafia life. I was fascinated with how many famous people or high-ranking officials are actually part of the underworld, some of them even in the FBI.

According to the girls, they use code names so that not everyone in their world would know who each of them really are. However, Edward being Edward, has met at least half of them already and has concise background research about them. Though everything sounded twisted, I can't help but to be impressed by how important Edward's role really was in their world.

I also asked them about their code names, and at this I couldn't contain my laughter.

"You're Pixie?" I asked Alice, snorting.

"Yes, from the haircut." She pointed at her hair, which was cut short like that of a pixie.

"I see. Though I admit, I couldn't argue with Rose being 'Gorgeous' or Emmett 'Big-Guy'. They suit them pretty well."

"What can I say," Rose said as she pulled the hot iron rod with my hair, "Even in our world no one can rival me in beauty, so our Boss found it appropriate." I couldn't agree more. "And Em really _is_ a Big Guy."

"But aren't there many Big Guys there as well?"

"Felix and Santiago are bigger - they looked more like the Hulk, and they got his brains too–," she giggled, "But Em came before them, and he was the biggest at that time."

"What about Edward? Why is he called Masen? Why doesn't he have a code name like yours?"

Both the girls giggled before Alice took pity on my confusion and explained it to me.

"Edward, that easily-pissed-off guy, he didn't like Aro's nickname for him so he randomly chose a name and came up with Masen."

"What was the name your Boss gave him?" This was intriguing.

Alice and Rose couldn't contain their snickers before Alice said, "Handsome."

"Handsome? He was pissed off because he was called Handsome?"

"You know how Edward is. It's not a manly name, he says. Not something that evokes fear."

"So that's it? No grand history regarding his alias? No sudden epiphany where he felt compelled to be called Masen?"

"You should have seen him when they tried calling him 'Handsome' – he was so pissed he almost killed Aro right then," Rose quipped with another snort.

I can't imagine it – it was way too comical a story for Edward.

When Rose asked for a short leak break, I took the opportunity to ask Alice something that has been bothering me.

"Alice," I started in a serious voice. She seemed to have instantly picked up the mood shift and grew serious as well. "Why are you telling me all of this now? You held back all this information about yourself when we first met. Aren't you afraid I am a spy from your enemy or that I'd tell the cops?"

She smiled easily.

"Very simple, Bella: I trust you."

"Just like that? Why?"

"Because I can read people well, and I trust you to be one of the people I can always count on. You're my best friend, Bella."

"What if you are wrong and I betrayed your trust?"

Her smile remained as she answered, "Then that's a risk I have to take."

Alice then continued with what she was doing with my face as she added, "One thing I learned about life, Bella, is that it is full of risks. There's a choice, every second, to take the risk or to be safe. However, I realized, we can't actually feel alive without taking them. What's the use of living without feeling alive?"

She dabbed on my lipstick as I absorbed her words.

And so, curly hair, red dress, light makeup and a pair of high heels later, I was waiting for Edward to pick me up from the penthouse. Alice and Rose conveniently left me as I wait, telling me they don't want to be around when the lip-locking ensues, making me instantly blush.

However, it wasn't Edward who opened the door at around six in the evening. It was Emmett, dressed in a fine suit with a pilot's cap.

"Wow, don't you look dapper, Em?"

"Dapper? That's a good thing, right?" He asked looking really confused. I giggled.

"It means you look hot."

His dimpled smile was immediate.

"Right. Hot. That's Emmett for you. But I'm sorry, I can't steal you from your date tonight – whatever Edward made you believe, I like my nose straight." He pointed at said nose which was showing a little bruise now. I didn't know if I should take pity on him or to laugh some more.

Then Emmett led me outside the hotel where a limousine was waiting, making a show of salute as he opened my door.

"Aren't you getting in here too? Where's the driver?"

"I'm the driver. Edward, the over-protective lovesick puppy, he couldn't let any stranger drive you. Says it's not safe. I hope you'll enjoy my driving madam."

I couldn't help my giggle as he closed my door for me – Edward is too cute for his own good.

Once I got settled in my seat, I noticed a bouquet of red roses which made me instantly smile. I took out the card to read:

_Bella,_

_I hate Rose and Alice, but they're right. You do deserve a date._

_At first I thought it was all too (fucking) cheesy and cliché, but when I thought about making you smile, I swallowed my manly pride and went ahead to plan this date, albeit in a short amount of time._

_I have a tendency to be cynical about guys being romantic, but alas! Here I am, trying desperately to be one. Can you see the paradox happening here? I feel that since meeting you, I am living in a world of mystery._

_I hope you'll like it because I'm losing my mind planning this whole thing._

There was no by-line, and no _'I love you'_, but my smile was so big I think it would break my face. Edward's attempt at being romantic was too cute and touching. And I do appreciate how he tried to strike down the curse word.

It all sounded like him.

When we arrived at the restaurant, my astonishment was immediate. Because when I entered the place, all I saw were flowers … everywhere.

I couldn't distinguish every flower in the room, but I think there were freesias, roses, and lilacs. A man in a suit started playing the violin, and there were servers lined on the side. There were no other couples in there, so it is safe to assume that Edward rented the whole place.

For a man who has no idea about being a romantic, Edward did a pretty good job, even outdoing himself. I think I shed a tear or two.

"Enjoy, Bella," Emmett said beside me, breaking my trance as I look up to him. "Edward almost went nuts planning this whole thing. I will give it to Rosy, she could be very pushy but my girl was right about this date thing – you both need it. And I'm happy for the both of you. Edward was a bitch before he met you, and now he's a little more tolerable. I've never seen him so happy before, and it's all thanks to you."

"Oh, Em," I cooed, touched.

"I'll just be right outside – designated driver, remember?"

I nodded with a smile.

He scanned my appearance before finally saying, "And you look lovely."

"Thank you, Em. This is – this is, 'wow', that's what this is. And I know you helped him arrange this whole thing, so thank you."

He nodded with a smile, and then he left.

So now, here I was: sipping the non-alcoholic beverage pre-ordered by Edward with a smile on my face as I waited for him. The beverage was a reminder that he did not forget about me not drinking alcohol and it touches me more that he remembers that as well.

Only now, I'm starting to worry: It has almost been an hour since I arrived, but he was still not here.

Where is my date?

I took another sip of my beverage to calm my growing nerves.

* * *

**A/N:** **Third part of Bella and Edward's reunion day. I can't seem to move the plot without putting a little bit of fluff/fun time for our hero and heroine. *sighs* I hope you are still not sick of their very long day.**

**Again, thanks to my beta, Fran. She makes me look good.**

**Thanks everyone!**


	21. Chapter 21: Preventing Blood Stains

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 21: PREVENTING BLOOD STAINS**

Something doesn't feel right.

It has almost been an hour now, and here I am, waiting – albeit impatiently – for Edward to show up for our date.

Why isn't he here?

Then I remembered Jasper and his blatant anger about the death of his father, Morgan Whitlock. I forgot to ask Alice about him because of all the things that happened afterward.

Suddenly, an alarming thought occurred to me: What if Edward is with Jasper?

No.

No.

_No._

In an abrupt move, I took out my phone to dial Alice's digits, thanking my lucky stars that I asked for her number.

I heard the usual ringing from the other line as I agitatedly kept muttering, "Pick up, pick up, pick up …"

After what felt like hours, Alice finally answered on the other line sounding way too cheerful for my present mood.

_"Hi Bella. How is the date so far? Where did Edward take you …?"_

"Alice," I cut her words, "Edward's still not here. I've been waiting for an hour. I hope I'm just overreacting, but I have a feeling he's with Jasper – why else would he be missing?"

_"What?"_

"Where do you think Jasper would take him? You're good at tracking, Alice. Where do you think they could be?"

_"Bella, calm down. Maybe he's just late …"_

"Has he ever been late before?"

Alice took a moment to answer this time.

_"No. You're right, he's never been late. I can see your point. It's your first date, and Emmett told us a little about how much he prepared for it. Give me a minute to figure this all out."_

"Alice, make it quick please," I demanded, before touching the end button on my phone.

I started tapping my foot on the floor while biting my nails as I waited for Alice to call me back. My gaze flickered to my death-trap heels, and I took off my shoes.

It took Alice a minute to call me again. When I picked it up, I could hear a familiar noise in the background.

_"Bella, Rose and I are in the car right now. Have you tried calling Edward? He's not picking up our calls."_

I hit my temple with my palm – why hadn't I thought of that before?

_Stupid._

_Stupid._

"I didn't," I muttered-groaned on the phone, "I'm sorry, I forgot. You were the first person that came into my mind to call."

_"We're close to the restaurant now – I told Emmett to stay at the entrance to keep an eye on you outside for possible intruders. Edward is near the Alkire Park. We'll get you safe first before we go in there."_

What?

"No! I'm coming Alice. You can't keep me out of this, are you crazy? And how did you know so easily where Edward was?"

_"I put a tracker to all of our phones – I put one in yours earlier when Rose was doing your hair."_

"A-what? Tracker? Alice, it would have been convenient to tell me about that before, don't you think?"

_"Edward knows. Sorry, I forgot to tell you."_

"I'm going crazy here thinking how to find Edward and you just, what, put a tracker to find him?"

_"Bella, let's stop arguing about this, please. We have more important things on our hands. We're around the block. I'm hanging up."_

She's right. We have more important things to discuss. But the tracker thing just threw me off.

"Miss, is there something wrong?" I turned to the waiter who was looking at me with concern. Then I noticed that all the other servers were also looking at me strangely.

"I'm all right. It seems as though my date couldn't make it. I appreciate everything that has been done, but I'm afraid we won't be eating here tonight."

I didn't even give him time to say anything before I began walking out of the room with my pouch and shoes in my hand.

I came face to face with Alice, Rose and Emmett at the door.

"I'm coming," I told Alice without preamble, and she looked at me cursorily before deciding not to argue.

"We'll use Rose's car – the limousine isn't cut out for this."

Without more words, we all hopped into Rose's car. Rosalie drove manically as I clutched the car's side.

"There, there, Rose, turn left," Alice directed without looking away from the laptop in front of her. I hadn't even noticed she had one with her.

"Alice, who is this Morgan Whitlock?"

She answered me while still absorbed by whatever she was looking at her laptop.

"Morgan's one of the mafia leaders. He rules the South, here in Arizona. Edward killed him a few months ago, effectively stopping all his businesses. Jasper wasn't skilled enough to take over everything his father left behind, and not too soon after, Whitlock's went bankrupt, leaving Jasper penniless."

I shuddered – for the first time feeling fear instead of anxiety.

"Why did Edward kill him?"

Alice shifted her eyes to me for a fraction of a second, before looking back at her laptop.

"That's a story you have to ask Edward yourself. I'm sorry, I can't tell."

Then I realized something …

"Wait, Rose, where did you get this car? I thought you got here on a plane."

"I suppose you aren't opposed to grand theft auto."

"Wait, what?"

She huffed, though not a swerve was made from her manic driving.

"I'll give it back, okay? Think of it as a borrowed car. One of the customers of the hotel owns this."

Emmett bumps my shoulder slightly as he kindly says, "Give it a rest, B. We have more important things to do. Rose, Alice and I already quit with Aro. You worry too much."

"Sorry Em," I mumbled. "I'm just freaking out a little."

"Don't worry about Edward. He's tough. Jasper is nothing compared to him."

Then he shot me his dimpled smile, making me a little calmer.

"Alice," Rose called out, catching Alice's attention, "We're at Alkire Park."

"I know. Turn right, and you'll see an abandoned house. That's where he is."

In my periphery, I saw Emmett loading his gun – I'd never even seen him with one before.

"Why do fuckers always choose the abandoned houses?" Emmett muttered rhetorically, but Alice still answered.

"You know why Em. There are CCTVs everywhere now. Killing people in public places isn't really a smart move – not unless you're as good as Edward."

I remembered the public murder in New York at the auction.

Another chill ran down my spine.

"Stop here," Alice directed again to Rose, who abruptly stopped the car near the aforementioned abandoned house.

We all hopped out as fast as we could – Alice and Rose adjusting their guns – before we entered the house.

The abandoned house was run-down, dark, and eerie. There were cracks everywhere in the walls, decorated with cobwebs.

Emmett silently handed me something, and in the dim light, I recognized it as a gun.

I don't know how to fire one, but it at least is some sort of protection. I guess it's better than being helplessly defenseless.

Alice signaled for us to quiet down as we crept silently forward.

Not too far from us, we could hear noises – two people mutedly talking – from the other side of the room.

One of them is starkly familiar. It was Edward's voice, and I'd know it anywhere.

The other one is a voice I'm starting to get familiar with. I was right – Jasper had Edward.

We stood directly behind the door.

"How many?" Rose whispered through her breath.

"Only he and Jasper," Alice answered just as quietly. "Bella," she then turned to me, "Please, you shouldn't be here. Things could get ugly and you could be in our way."

That felt like a slap towards me though she didn't intend for it to be that way. But, she was right, of course. I shouldn't have come. I am a liability to all of them.

"But it's too late now," she continued, as I tried to ignore the sudden helplessness and self-pity that I was feeling. "I can't leave you with Rose alone. We don't know if he has back-up. It's better if you're with us than somewhere alone and unprotected."

So that was the reason why she let me tail them – I would be unprotected.

_I really need to learn how to kick people's asses._

When I took a step to my right, I felt something stabbed my barefooted-toe, but I didn't care. My toes could bleed all they want.

However, my sudden movement made me lose my footing, making me collide into the door. The commotion alerted Edward and Jasper and their muted talking suddenly stopped short.

I held my breath.

Seconds later, we all heard Jasper shout, "Who's there?!"

I winced at my stupidity, and Alice, Rosalie and Emmett, all heaved a collected sigh.

Because we're all obviously busted, Alice decided to lower her gun to come into view. She opened the door, and we all followed her into the dimly lit room.

As soon as we entered, my eyes fell on the scene before me.

Beside me, Alice greeted, "Hello Jasper Whitlock," in a sweet, confident tone, as though she and Jasper were long-time friends.

I took that opportunity to observe the two men in the room:

Both Jasper and Edward were standing as Jasper pointed his gun at Edward. Making a brief inventory of Edward, I could see him unscathed, and there were no visible bruises in him. His gun was in his right hand, but it was lowered and he seemed calm.

It wasn't something I expected – on our ride to this place, I kept picturing Edward looking worse.

In contrary to the calm demeanor that Edward exudes, for some reason, Jasper looked fragile and crazed. Even though he was the one who looked to be in control – since he was the one whose gun was pointing at Edward – he looked everything but.

He wasn't standing straight; his gait was a little bent and he was shaking like a leaf.

"Don't come closer or else I'll fire this gun!" Jasper shouted at us.

"Alice," Edward then called out, still looking calm. "Why did you bring Bella here?"

"We couldn't just leave her alone, Edward. She can't protect herself. Even if I send Rose or Em with her, it still wouldn't be enough to protect her in case this fool might have back-up with him." She gestured to Jasper, obviously deeming him as the 'fool'.

Edward sighed but didn't comment anymore.

Rosalie chose that moment to finally speak.

"Are you really that big of an idiot, Jasper Whitlock? Did you really think you could take Edward by yourself? The only reason he's in here in the first place is because he wanted to talk to you. Yes, he killed your father, but he had damn good reasons why. Put that gun down and let's talk – you don't need all these antics."

"Shut up!" Jasper shouted, and in a sudden move, he fired his gun through the roof.

Things felt a little bit more frantic then.

Feeling the seriousness of the situation, Edward finally spoke in a guarded tone and began by asking, "Have you ever killed anyone before? Because it seems like you haven't – your hands are shaking uncontrollably."

"Shut up, Cullen, or I'll really shut you up with this!" Jasper screamed, pointing his gun back at Edward.

However, Edward did something that shocked all three of us. He suddenly threw his gun in front of Jasper as he raised his hands – palms up – as though he was claiming defeat.

He continued to speak even after Jasper's warning, and this time, he was even calmer and more guarded as though he was conveying something crucial.

"It is your right to kill me, Jasper Whitlock – an eye for an eye, it is. I threw my weapon, but know that once your hands are dirtied, the blood would never come off no matter how much you try to wash it down the drain."

His words seemed to affect Jasper; the shaking man looked to be on the brink of tears.

"Are you trying to justify killing my father? You have no idea what I went through after that, Cullen," Jasper spat. "Yes, I'm shaking, but I'm shaking because I want to kill you so badly."

"Then why aren't you firing?"

Jasper shook a little more; my heart drummed.

What if he does fire?

Looking at Jasper straight in the eyes, Edward's next words were delivered with such emotion, such experience, that a tremor wracked my whole body.

"My hands would always shake after I took away lives – and I've already done it fifteen times. A piece of advice from a professional killer to a would-be killer: look me in the eyes when you pull the trigger. Be man enough to do that. If you can do it – truly see my eyes as the life in them leaves me – the shaking might be worse next time. It's a good shaking because it will make you remember that you're a human and not merely a killing machine and that there is still a conscience lingering in your head after you've done it."

"Stop talking!"

Jasper seemed more desperate as he continued to crumble before our eyes. However, Edward didn't stop speaking – he knew he was getting to him.

"I can never forget the first time that I killed, I couldn't sleep for three straight days. I still can't find a peaceful sleep at night. I don't think you want to feel that."

I knew what Edward was doing; I glanced briefly at my companions and we all seemed to have the same thoughts. He was trying to coax Jasper not to fire the bullet at his own will, to prevent Jasper from turning into a murderer. I knew then that Edward felt he owes Jasper, his father's life, and that's the reason why he deliberately chose to come here.

He could have easily avoided this confrontation – from the way Alice and the rest talks about Edward, I knew that he was very skilled, and Jasper couldn't take him on singlehandedly. But he wanted to meet him, because he felt accountable for what he did in the past.

But what if Jasper actually did fire, could I afford to see that?

For a second – a fleeting moment – I thought about Edward firing a shot at him instead, as I questioned why I even made him swear the stupid promise about not killing anyone.

However, I already asked Edward to stop killing people. And he already threw his gun away from him, leaving him with no weapon.

Then, a sudden, alarming thought occurred to me:

I have my gun with me – I could creep behind Jasper and fire at him.

But what if I hurt Edward instead? What if I will make the situation worse?

What if I killed Jasper?

What if _I killed Edward?_

I looked down at the gun in my hand, contemplating …

"There's only two ways this could end," Edward still continued as I looked up to see how Jasper's fury made him tear up. "Neither one of the choices seeming to favor you, but at least one of them will get you out of here alive.

The first, which I suggest you not to follow through with because it will be dumb luck on your part to do so, is to kill me. Of course, you can't just kill me without expecting retaliation from Emmett, Rose or Alice. So you have to kill everyone here, even Bella." He made a fleeting look at me, before turning his eyes back to Jasper. I noticed his voice broke a little when he said my name.

"If you leave one alive," he continued, "they'll tell the cops. If you try to kill us all, I can assure you, you will not win – there are five of us here and only one of you. So you get what you came here for – to kill me – but at what cost? Your life? For your asshole of a father who fucked with another woman while your mother was dying in her bed?"

At this, Jasper visibly shuddered as his face contorted.

"The second and more sensible choice is to put your gun down. Of course, you'd argue I just want to save my own skin – and I can pretty much assure you, I damn well want to. But here's the thing; you won't get your hands dirty, you won't deal with the cops – or the FBI that have been after me for too long – and you won't deal with Aro.

Edward took a cautious step forward.

"It is revenge you seek and I know quite well how that feels. It was the same reason I took out your father in the first place."

At this, Jasper whimpered. His sudden move made him stagger forward to point the gun directly at Edward's face.

I gasped in fear.

He was only a few inches from Edward now; Edward could have easily unarmed him if he actually wanted to. But still, Edward chose to continue speaking; sounding unaffected that a gun is now mere inches from his head.

"Jasper, I killed your father because he killed my family. You know he wasn't a saint. He never even treated you like his successor or his son. He disregarded you – you're only after me because he left you with nothing.

If you kill me because I killed him, then these guys will kill you because you killed me. When is the cycle ever gonna end?

Let me help you."

Jasper laughed humorlessly as he sneered, "How can you help me?" Tears were now streaming down his face.

What he said was obviously rhetorical, it was more of a snide comment than an actual question. However, Edward still chose to answer him.

"I will help you by giving you a better life, with a much better direction. I'll give more than half of my money to you – I'm sure my wealth is no secret to the underworld. You can start a clean, new life, free from all these demons. And it's the only way I can make up to you for killing your father, no matter how much I hated him or the fact that he killed my family.

Jasper made another whimpering sound. He kicked the closest thing in his path – which was a chair – before he pointed his gun back at Edward's head.

Then he spoke in a helpless way, "How can I make sure you'll do what you say, huh? You fucking killed my father, and I am miserable because of you. How can I fucking believe you?"

Edward looked at him, straight into his eyes.

"You're the one pointing the gun at my skull, Jasper, not the other way around. I guess you just have to trust me – the same way that I am entrusting you with my life."

At the obvious display of indecisiveness from Jasper, Alice chose that moment to intervene, speaking in a soothing way.

"If you kill him, Jasper, you will take away a very special person in that woman's life." She quickly pointed at me. "You know what it feels like to lose someone important to you. Are you willing to deny her of her love, the same way you were condemned when your mother left you? You didn't have much choice back then, but with Bella, all of her agony will be placed in your hands if you kill the only man that she ever loved.

I don't want you to be a murderer, Jasper. I will help you."

Jasper looked at Alice's direction to ask in an accusing way, "What do you know about love, eh? What makes you think I could believe anything that you've said?"

However, Alice merely smiled, as she hugged herself protectively across her torso.

"I'm not really sure. My mother is a prostitute; when I was fifteen, she tried to force me to be the same. I almost became one but Edward showed up to save me from the men who were forcing themselves on me. I don't love Edward the way Bella does, but I love him enough to think that he is my savior. And if you kill my savior, you will also kill me."

I never knew the magnitude of gratitude that Alice felt for Edward. I heard her story before, but she didn't tell me about Edward saving her the first time they met. I just naturally assumed that because the nature of their 'work' is the same, they just became close without effort. This revelation made me see their relationship in an entirely new light.

With that said, Jasper was finally able to break down, sobbing uncontrollably. He tumbled down to the cement floor, supporting his weight with his hands, and with his gun safely out of the distance from Edward.

Alice ran to his side, hushing him tenderly.

That was all I saw of Alice and Jasper before Edward was at my side and tossing the gun I was holding to the floor. Giving me no time to absorb anything, he precipitously hugged me so tightly I almost felt as if I'm being crushed.

He didn't give me time to recover, however, because suddenly his lips were on mine. At my unexpected gasp, he took that opportunity to put his tongue in my mouth.

I closed my eyes and took time to accommodate this frantic kissing. He seemed unconcerned about anything else or about all the people in the room, and was only focused on kissing me.

When he finally broke the kiss, we both found ourselves having a hard time breathing.

"Are you unhurt?" I asked frantically, inspecting him closer to see if he received any blows from Jasper before we got to him.

"No. Why are you here, Bella … You could have been hurt. God, I can't believe Alice brought you here."

And that's when I erupted.

"And what? Eat my supper alone as I waited for you to be killed by Jasper? Adorn my apartment with all the flowers you sent me as I wonder whether or not I'll see you alive again? I don't think so, Cullen. And how about you, huh? You didn't show up for our date and you made me so worried thinking that something happened to you. What if we didn't get here and Jasper really pulled the trigger? God, Edward, don't scare me like that ever again."

Tears welled up in my eyes as all my frustrations finally found a way to be released.

"Shh," he hushed me, wiping my tears. "Everything is over. It's all right. I'm fine, I'm here," he chanted as he hugged me again to him.

But I couldn't stop tearing up and I knew I was close to breaking down.

Suddenly, I found myself consumed with an abundance of anger and frustration and the next thing I knew, I was giving him futile punches to his chest.

"I thought we were too late, you stupid man! I thought you died! I thought I lost you forever!"

Edward didn't move even after I hit him repeatedly with weak punches. When they slowed down, he took both my hands to encircle them around his waist, as he hugged me again and dropped a kiss on my temple.

I was still sobbing, however, and when I attacked him next, it wasn't with my hands – it was with my kisses.

I kissed every inch of him that my lips could touch: his lips, his cheeks, his temple, the edge of his right eye; his shoulders, his chest, his arms, his hands, his palms …

I kissed him as I continued to sob.

I kissed him as if my life depended on it.

"Shh. I'm all right, I'm here. I'm sorry. Shh, my Bella," he crooned.

Then someone said:

"All right guys, I appreciate that this is a dramatic moment, but I really want to go home now."

Looking up, I saw Rosalie rolling her eyes at us. Her anti-climactic remark made us stop with what we were doing.

With that, Edward tucked me to his side, placing his arm around me. When he looked down at me, his face appeared as though he remembered something.

"The date," he mumbled as he skimmed my appearance for the first time.

I must have looked a sight. Clad in my red dress, barefooted, toes bleeding, my shoes and purse in my left hand... Good thing I wasn't holding the gun that Emmett had given me earlier.

"I'm sorry about ruining our date," said Edward as he scans my appearance, running his index finger over his lower lip. "You look gorgeous, and I feel really sorry that I missed it."

He then skimmed his hand over my immediate blush and tucked the stray hair from my face behind my ear. After that, he placed his index finger on his lips as his eyes skimmed my legs, lingering there far longer than was necessary.

Self-consciously, I tried to straighten my dress.

"Alice and Rose did all the make-up and styling, and they lent me the dress."

He looked around us to spot Rose, who was at Emmett's side in the same position as us, and to Alice, who was helping the still quivering Jasper to stand.

"Thank you, Rose, Alice. Bella looks beautiful."

Although Rosalie seemed a bit peeved that we weren't moving as fast as she wanted out of the abandoned building, she managed to shoot Edward a happy smirk.

Alice, who was now walking with Jasper out of the room – her arms around his torso as Jasper's left arm was on her shoulder – then answered, "She's naturally beautiful so it was easy making her more beautiful. She really didn't need a lot of make-up." I blushed again, unused to being complimented.

"This fool," she continued, motioning to Jasper, "really had shitty timing orchestrating this attempted murder."

To say that I was surprised at how easily they seem to be at ease with Jasper after the whole ordeal was a huge understatement. But then again, I shouldn't have expected them to be hysterical the way was about Edward. I decided then to put all of this behind me, the way they do.

With that said, Edward and I started walking out of the room. However, when I took a step with my right foot, I felt a sting on my injured toe, which made me wince in pain.

Noticing my reaction, Edward murmured, "Your toe is bleeding."

I wanted to point out that he was saying something that was obvious, but the look of concern on his face made me swallow my snarky comment. Instead, I tried to appease him by saying, "It's not a big deal."

Edward sighed, and in one swift move, he carried me bridal style, making me gasp in surprise.

"This is entirely unnecessary, please put me down. I can walk," I tried to protest. However, Edward just rolled his eyes, as though I was the one being petty instead of him, and just carried me out of the room.

But, to be honest, being carried this way has its perks. Aside from the fact that I felt like a cry-baby, six-year-old whose toe has an 'owwie', being as close as this with Edward, smelling his heavenly scent, and up-close with his face, is almost worth the injury.

I kissed his jaw.

That made him smile.

"It was really a shame we missed our first date," I mused, as I took hold of the collar of his tux. I can now observe that he was wearing one, and feeling regret that I didn't get to enjoy ogling him on our supposed date. "Booking the restaurant seemed expensive, and now all those flowers will go to waste. And, you really look good in this tux."

"Thanks," he smiled crookedly, "But there is still a next time. I'll make sure I make it up to you on our next date."

I shook my head in disagreement.

"No, I don't want you to spend money that way anymore. I really appreciated what you did, and I will make sure I get my flowers back, along with your card from where I left it, but next time, I just want us to spend the day in my apartment – or yours, once we get back to New York. We could watch movies with homemade popcorn, and then I'll cook dinner. Just that simple. That will make me really happy."

"It's a date then."

I smiled.

After almost losing him today, I realized that nothing else matters as long as we are together. Even if we live together in his grand mansion or camp out in my rotten apartment, the important thing is that he is with me and I'm in his arms, like this.

"One of the many," I whispered.

As Edward smiled, I knew then that what I said was the absolute truth.


	22. Chapter 22: The Nightmare Behind His Ago

**The Revelations of an Innocent Mind**

**CHAPTER 22: THE NIGHTMARE BEHIND HIS AGONIZED EYES**

To say that the ride back to the hotel was awkward would be the understatement of the century.

Everyone was on edge. Not just because Edward drove like a maniac but mostly because Alice told everyone that Jasper would ride with us. When Rose and Emmett protested, Alice reminded them that Edward promised Jasper his money and, therefore, could not escape his responsibility. I didn't want Jasper in the car, or anywhere near Edward, not after the stunt he pulled, even though Edward acted as though what happened was no big deal. However, the look on Alice's face when I said this made me take a step back, and shut up about my protests.

Alice is whipped, as Emmett would have phrased it.

I'm not sure if it is love at first sight for her, or if I was just misreading her actions, but she seemed really taken with him. You would think that after her calling him a 'fool' one too many times, and doing everything that she could to stop Jasper, Alice would never trust him, but no, I've seen that look before, especially the one reflected in her eyes. It confirms a little of my suspicions about Alice falling for him.

It was the same look I've seen on Edward this morning while he was confessing to me.

It was the same look I'm sure were reflected back in my eyes.

And so, with that, the ride back was silent at the least and awkward at the most, with each of us trying to cope with the atmosphere the best we could:

Emmett kept on glances at his gun, as though Jasper might attempt to do anything to harm us, he would immediately take a shot at him. Rose kept on inspecting her blood-red nails, but I could see her eyeing Jasper every now and again. Edward acted as though he had not, only a few minutes ago, been threatened by Jasper. However, his tightened grip on the steering wheel was indication enough of his anxiety, so he was not fooling me. I have my arms wrapped around my knees in the passenger seat – with both my legs bended in front of me – as I ceaselessly chewed on my lower lip. And Jasper and Alice … Jasper was staring out his window with a vacant expression on his face as Alice kept a steady pair of eyes on him.

We looked like the six most estranged people in the world.

It took a full fifteen minutes before Edward was able to drop off Emmett and Rose at the restaurant – the one where we were supposed to have our date – so that Emmett could drive the limousine back to where it was rented. On his way out of our 'borrowed' car, I asked him to bring me back the flowers and card that Edward had sent me, and he agreed with his usual dimpled smile.

The ride from the restaurant to the hotel was even quieter and more tension-filled. I was very relieved when we finally reached our destination.

Once we stepped foot inside the penthouse, Alice immediately led Jasper to one of the rooms, leaving Edward and I stupefied in the living room. You'd think, after all the kissing we did today, we would already feel comfortable in each other's presence, but the moment we were left alone, the uneasy air filled us again. Not knowing what to do, I gave Edward an awkward hug and a kiss as I dashed to the nearest vacant room I could find.

I hid from him like the coward that I am.

That night, as I lay in bed and tossed and turned to get some sleep, the events of the day were on replay in my mind. I was filled with astonishment at how everything could have happened in just less than twenty-four hours. Thinking about that made me skeptical that I was actually awake and not merely creating another one of my make-believe stories as I had been doing for the last four months.

I was preparing to see Edward only to find him at my door.

I heard him promise he would no longer kill anyone.

I heard him say he loves me.

I kissed him with heated, passion-filled kisses.

I felt jealously over another woman.

I learned about Edward's fearsome Boss, Aro Volturi, whose name brings shivers down my spine.

I saw Edward beat Jasper after he had shadowed us.

I saw Alice, Rose and Emmett again.

I confessed about the deceit in my letters.

I now know each of their code names while Rose and Alice tag-teamed on styling me – I still can't believe Edward threw a hissy-fit about his original codename.

I received my first bouquet of flowers and a card from Edward.

I saw him 'try' to be romantic for our first and forced date.

I felt fear that I might have lost Edward when he stood me up on our date.

I saw him with a gun pointed at him by Jasper.

I saw Jasper crumble before my eyes.

I heard how Edward regretted killing Jasper's father and his remorse about killing other people.

I saw Jasper finally give up on his revenge, with Alice immediately hovering over him.

I kissed Edward again.

Imagine how different my life could have been without this day?

No one would believe me if I told them about what had happened.

Nevertheless, despite all that, and despite being subjected to a whirlwind of emotions – sadness, surprise, excitement, frenzy, madness, helplessness, anxiety and fear – I would still choose to experience it all again.

Because at the end of the day, I got the person that I love.

And because of that, I couldn't have asked for more.

At around midnight, even with my tired muscles straining, I still couldn't sleep a wink. Thus, with a defeated sigh, I dragged my body out of the bed to go downstairs and find something to pass away time.

As I walked into the kitchen, I poured some water and then heard footsteps approaching me and looked up to see Edward in a pair of jeans and T-shirt, and sporting bedhead.

"Oh, hey."

I greeted him with a little wave. I then took a sip of water and sat on the barstool as I waited for him to come closer.

Once he sat beside me, he took one of the glasses there and poured himself water to drink.

"Can't sleep?"

He had asked before he took a swig of his drink.

"No, it seems the events from earlier keeps creeping back to me." I heaved a huge sigh. "This day was emotionally draining. I can't believe everything that happened in just a day."

He nodded.

I still feel a little bit awkward around Edward, and I marveled at that. I had already kissed him, had slept beside him before, and he was my boyfriend, but here I still am, still feeling strange with him.

"Do you want to sleep with me?"

His sudden question broke me out of my reverie.

"What?" I asked; surprised; excited; scared.

"Just sleep with me for tonight, unless you're afraid …"

I wasn't sure if he was serious or kidding, but there was a twinkle in his eye – his once cold eyes, now full of life – and upon closer inspection, I read the twinkle as mischief.

"Why would I be scared? We will only sleep together … right?"

I tried to be brave, but I couldn't help drinking a huge gulp of my water.

He pursed his lips, which was a very uncharacteristic gesture of him, as he pretended to think through his answer.

"Hmm, I don't know? Will we be only sleeping? After all, you're now my girlfriend, and I could use some warm company tonight."

"Oh," I uttered in an unusually high-pitched voice, and then swallowed the bile in my throat.

He looked at me as a ghost of a smile was showing on his face.

"Why are you looking at me like that? What are you thinking?"

I asked, sounding a little bit defensive.

Suddenly, he burst out laughing – the sound of his laughter echoing through the quiet night.

"You should have seen your face," he said in between his laughter. "Oh Bella, do you honestly think that I will initiate something tonight, after you told me that you were a nun?"

"– A novice nun," I tried to correct him.

He was shaking his head as he continued to smirk at me through his amusement.

"Look at yourself blush! I've never known anyone who could have such a deep-red face, like a tomato."

He was right, of course. I could feel my face heating, and I am sure that I actually do resemble a ripe red tomato.

"So, you were just making fun of me?" I asked a little irked.

He took hold of my right hand as he answered with a smile, "I like making you blush. It's a very attractive color against your skin. And I want you to at least forget what happened today."

Right on cue, I felt my face heating up more, and I was sure it was now full-on flame.

"Come on, let's sleep together."

He stood while still holding my hand and helped me down the stool.

"I promise I won't try anything that you're uncomfortable with," he said with my favorite crooked smile.

I smiled back, albeit timidly.

He led me out of the dining room and upstairs to his room while holding my hand the whole way through.

Once we got inside, I couldn't help fidget as my nerves got the best of me.

We wouldn't do anything … _right?_

I gulped, imagining the consequences of agreeing to his suggestion.

"Don't be nervous."

I snapped my head to see him sitting on his bed.

"We've done this before, right? We've slept together like this."

"I'm not nervous," I pressed.

"Sure you're not."

He nodded as though he was only humoring me.

"Stop making fun of me."

He gave me another of my favorite crooked smile and said in a very light tone, "I love you."

Him blurting it out like that – out of the blue – made my heart melt a little.

"I love you too."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Come here."

He patted the space beside him.

I hesitantly made my way to him, aware of the tension I could feel consuming me every second I was with him in his dimly-lit room.

Once there, at the place he had suggested, he suddenly yanked me down and we both fell back with a loud oomph to his mattress with me shrieking slightly in surprise.

He laughed a little as we both fixed our position so that we could lie better.

"See, it wasn't that bad. I just want to sleep with you."

"Why do you want to sleep with me?"

"Because I finally can."

He looked down at my lips, and with a slight nod of my head, he leaned closer to kiss me very gently and sweetly. I closed my eyes and cherished the moment.

When I opened my eyes, he was smiling at me. He sat a little so that his head was leaning on the headboard and placed his arm around me. I adjusted my position leaning into the crook of his shoulder. I yanked his blanket to cover us both.

Once we were comfortable with our positions, Edward kept a rhythmic pattern of running his hand through my hair.

"Bella, I just want you to know that I won't force you to do anything that you're not ready to. I knew the moment I decided to come here, that I'm in this for life. You are the only person who has affected me this way – in any way. Alice told me how I've changed, and I didn't notice that before, but she's right, I did change – because you came into my life.

You brought me to life.

And I understand if you have stipulations. I am first to admit, I've done a lot of things, but this is a first time for me as well. I've never slept with a woman before, apart from you. I've never had a relationship, never cared for anyone the way I care for you. I've had sex before, yes, but for the first time, I want to make love to you in the most romantic and sensual way possible. But I would understand if you are not ready for any of those things. I want you to know that I will wait, and I can wait for you. You're too precious for me to lose you."

At Edward's candid admission of his feelings, I felt comforted enough to try to speak to him about my thoughts on the matter.

"I'm actually scared of that – of s-s-," I tried to say, huffing at my inability to say the word.

I decided to rephrase my sentence instead.

"Of making love. I know I have … feelings for you that I've never had before but I don't think I would know how to … show them."

"I'll be waiting."

"It's not just that, Edward. I wouldn't know what to do … to please you. I have no experience, have not seen anyone do it before, or heard from anyone who has done it before. It's a scary thing for me because it's something that I do not understand."

"Don't worry about it, Bella." Edward kissed my temple. "It is a natural thing. We are naturally meant to be together. And you shouldn't worry about pleasing me – believe me, I know I will be pleased by you."

_Would he really?_

"Even though I wouldn't know what to do?"

The doubt was evident in my voice.

"Especially because you wouldn't know what to do."

His voice sounded sure.

"Because," he continued, "that would mean I will be the first one who would be intimate with you, and you have no idea how wonderful that will make me feel. And I am sure you will be great – even the way you kiss me was great. It will come naturally for you.

But you shouldn't worry about that now, okay? We don't have to do it now, or tomorrow or the next week … The moment you are ready, I will be too."

Even though I could hear the truth of his words, I still couldn't completely erase my insecurities. So looking up at his face, I asked, "But what if I'm only ready when … after … marriage?"

He turned his head to smile at me.

"Then that's fine with me … As long as the one you're marrying is me, of course."

The mischief in his eyes was once again present as he spoke the last part.

I decided to play along.

"That's not a proposal, right? Because that's a terrible proposal if it was."

He laughed as I pretended to cringe.

"What kind of proposal do you want? Flowers …? Dinner at the rooftop …? A live marching band serenading you through your window …?"

I seriously contemplated his question.

"I've seen couples get married in our church before. I spoke with some of the brides and asked them how their husband proposed and they all sounded really romantic.

They vary, of course, from a very large-scale to an intimate affair. However, one thing is ever-present in all their stories: It was the devotion of their husband to them, and the promise to make them happy.

So I thought, how the proposal would go isn't really important. What's important is who was proposing to you, and how you felt at that time about the concept of marriage, and the concept of living forever with your husband.

So for me, as long as it's the one I love …" Looking at his emerald eyes again, I bravely said, "as long as it is _you_ who will be asking for my hand, the 'how' wouldn't be important. You alone would be more than enough."

Seconds passed as we stayed looking into each other's eyes. Then, he leaned down to me once more to peck on my lips.

Once we parted, I moved closer to him and he resumed running his hand over my hair.

"Was the reason why you were nervous with me because of your inexperience?"

"Yes, I'm intimidated by that aspect."

Looking up, I saw him smile my favorite crooked smile.

"You are wonderful, you know that? Never feel on edge around me. You are perfect the way you are."

I was sure my face was blushing from the compliment.

"And you said you can't be romantic."

"Oh, I try."

I smiled at him, but then I earnestly said, "Thank you."

By the look in his eyes, I knew that Edward knew what I was thanking him for. It wasn't just because he tried to erase my discomfort around him, but it's more because he was finally with me, loving me the way I do with him.

He kissed my temple, and we relapsed into silence.

"Oh, before I forget, how is your toe?"

"It's all right. I've cleaned it and put a Band-Aid on it. It's not a deep-cut."

I shrugged.

"I still can't believe you followed me today. The thought of losing you? That was very dangerous. You could have been hurt far worse than your injured toe."

Edward tried to control his anger, but I could still faintly hear it in his voice and it made me defensive.

"Hey, look who's talking. It was you I was worried about. What if Jasper really fired that bullet?"

"He didn't." He had his jaw set.

"But what if he did? Did you ever think to consider how I would feel if you got hurt?_ If you got killed?_"

"He wouldn't have fired."

"How can you be sure?"

He was about to argue again until he looked down at me, and what he saw on my face made him sigh instead.

"Bella, I knew he wouldn't fire. Jasper is no murderer. And no matter how much he really did want to kill me, I wouldn't let him become a murderer. He came seeking revenge, but not because I killed his father – he was only putting the blame on me so that he could find a way to live again. Because right now, he has nothing, and he was desperate to torment me the same way."

"Just like how you want to torment the others," I whispered.

He was contemplative for a few heartbeats.

Finally, he said, "Yes."

"Do you know what the worst thing is? Seeing you there, inches away from being killed, I almost became a murderer."

My voice broke a little, and a few tears brimmed in my eyes. He was silent as he looked intently at me.

"I contemplated it Edward, I considered killing Jasper to save you. And I would have done it if I weren't scared that I'd hurt you instead."

At that, my tears finally spilled, revealing the fear and anxiety I had felt when I thought I would lose him.

He hugged me closer as he tried to console me.

"Shh. Don't cry," he whispered very faintly, and then he kissed my temple. "I hate seeing you cry."

"What if I became one, Edward?"

He wiped away the tears that spilled onto my cheeks. Then, he adjusted our positions so that we were lying down.

Facing each other, he said in a very earnest voice, "I wouldn't let you fire that bullet. I would do everything in my power not for you to fire. You would never become like me."

I was not sure if that was true. If there is ever another time when I would see Edward inches away from being killed, I am not sure if I could control myself.

But for now, I let it pass.

"Wow. What an eventful day. Can you believe that we just got together this morning? We almost had our date … then Jasper …"

I snorted a little to try to diffuse the sudden dramatic moment.

"I will never forget this day," I declared.

"Me neither."

"You're always very unemotional, I never knew you could be this sweet to me."

He laughed a little.

"Me neither."

"I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too."

He smiled.

I smiled back.

Then a sudden thought made me chuckle.

"Alice is whipped."

He chuckled as well, agreeing.

"Yes, she is."

"You know that?"

"Alice has never acted the way she did earlier. She was always very reserved, but tonight I've seen her cry, and open up to someone so fast, and she was really defensive about him … Can you believe they're just next door?"

"Seriously? They're in the same room?"

I couldn't believe it – I thought Alice only showed Jasper his room. But then again, I didn't come out of my room once we got here so I wouldn't have seen Alice leave Jasper's room.

Are they …?

"Oh," I exclaimed, as my thoughts drifted to another thing.

I felt my cheeks blush.

"Yeah, God knows what they are doing in there."

I remembered Rose's reaction when he heard Edward and I 'slept' together for the first time – how she corrected Emmett.

I repeated her words saying, "Maybe they're playing Mahjong."

Edward laughed.

"Do you even know what Mahjong is?"

"No. No idea," I said with a smile, hugging him tighter. Then I remembered what Alice said earlier, about the first time she met Edward. "I didn't know that you saved Alice before. That's a really incredible story."

"Alice is like an adult-child. She has experienced a lot about life, and about living in the streets, but she always has been disconnected from the world and from people. In many ways, we are similar. I found you, and now she found Jasper. And even though I don't entirely trust Jasper with her, and I know that no man will ever be good enough for her, I want her to be happy. So, if Jasper is the person who can make her happy, I have no other choice but to let her be with him."

It was wonderful how fiercely protective Edward was of Alice. He usually sounded as though he only tolerated Rosalie and Emmett, but Alice seemed to be altogether another case to him.

"Wow, you sound like her father," I teased.

"I'd much prefer to be her brother."

I laughed again. And I tightened my arms around him again.

"You still don't want to sleep?"

I shook my head. Reaching out to Edward, I kissed his jaw.

He nuzzled my hair again.

_What was it with his fascination with my hair?_

"Then what do you want to do?"

I thought about his question for a few moments, before deciding.

"Talk about what you did these last four months. Did Jacob come after you? The FBI?"

"Jacob made sure he had a man following me wherever I went, but I'd always find a way to lose them. They'd never even come near my property."

I shivered nonetheless.

"And the FBI – well, the usual; still trying to find out who Masen is. Still following the wrong trail, I plotted to confuse them."

"We must do something about Jacob and the FBI," I suggested. "We can't run away forever, but I also don't want them harmed."

"I know."

"What about Aro? What did you do for him these past months?"

"Nothing. I've told you, I was miserable. I couldn't do a single thing, couldn't take care of any of his businesses. Once I realized I had another reason to live, I chased that reason … to you."

I melted.

Again.

"So you're saying you can't live without me anymore?"

"I'll try, but every day would be a living hell, numb …"

"Purgatory," I supplied.

"Yes, that. Every day would be like Purgatory, and so I'd probably just follow you wherever you are, may it be at the end of the world, or in the afterlife …"

What he said made me suddenly look at him.

"You can't be serious."

"What's wrong?"

"Edward, you can't tell me that you'd kill yourself if I'm gone."

My voice was reaching hysteria.

"I didn't say that."

"But you implied it."

Edward sighed.

"Yes, I did."

"So would you? Commit suicide, I mean … If I ... died?"

He looked at me for a long time before blurting out, "Yes."

"No."

_I couldn't believe he said that!_

"You can't kill yourself when I die. We've been together for just a day – you can't possibly feel that strongly about me."

"Bella, I told you I'm in this for life. You are the only person who made me feel alive again. I can't live without you – that's just how it is."

"Promise me you won't do that," I demanded.

"Why are you so intent on this?"

"Because I can't imagine a world without you, too. And if you kill yourself, I might not see you again. That's what we believe in my religion. I wanted to be with you in the afterlife as well."

He sighed in defeat.

"All right."

"Promise me," I pressed.

He looked at me for a long time before saying, "I promise."

_You'd better._

Finally feeling calmer, I lay beside him again.

"I know you don't have the same beliefs as I do, but try to put yourself in my shoes to understand me: Would you have wanted not to see me again as well? Would you have wanted for me to be sent to hell because I killed myself?"

He was contemplative for a few moments.

"Okay. I do see your point. Not about the hell part, but the killing yourself part. If, by some weird, catastrophic scenario I would lose you first, then I promise, I won't kill myself.

In that note, can we please talk about something else? How about we forget all about these morbid, self-sacrificial thing and you just tell me instead what you were up to these four months."

Bringing up my last four months made me instantly sad.

"It's a long story. And I already told you about it."

"You gave the summary, not the whole story."

Knowing he wasn't about to give up, I sighed, relenting.

"Basically, I spent two months on the streets, nursing a 'stow-away' cat, and getting hungry, lonely, and depressed. And then, I met Kate, who introduced me to this whole new other life of debauchery where women are objectified by the wicked ways of men, and it was just sad."

A sharp look crossed Edward's face.

"You could have been in danger as well in there – Jesus, Bella! What if one of those lowlifes came to you?"

"They wouldn't," I said to coax him. "I tried to be invisible as much as I could, and hiding with horrid, old-fashioned clothes helped."

As the memories of all that I've been through hits me back, I couldn't help having my eyes cloud with a new set of unshed tears.

They were sad, sad times.

I was pathetic back then.

"I never thought how cruel the world could really be, Edward." I smiled a sad smile. "And through all that, I learned something about strength."

"What about it?" He murmured – gone was his anger, and was now replaced by his concern about my sudden shift of emotions.

My next words were uttered from the knowledge of my experience.

"You see, Edward, strength – inner strength I mean – is just a choice."

He looked at me directly, listening intently to what I have to say.

I summoned my courage, and with conviction, I stated:

"Strength is a set of mind; a conscious choice when weakness is all that's left in you. It is a mask for which we delude ourselves into thinking 'we can do it', when we're at our utmost limit and when it seems like we can't. We must sometimes fool ourselves into thinking that we can be strong, otherwise, how can we face each challenge of our days?

Strength is the only thing left when weakness clouds everything.

It is a trick of the mind.

It is the shield of the heart."

There was silence after my words.

Finally, Edward smiled.

"I completely understand what you mean. I'm proud of you."

A single tear fell from my eye and Edward wiped it much the same as he did earlier.

"You're crying again. I told you I hate seeing you cry."

"I'm sorry."

I sniffled, willing myself to stop my crying jag.

"Everything is just coming back, you know? And, after all that happened to me while I took myself away from you, I'm just really relieved you're finally here with me.

Whenever my stomach would churn from being too hungry; whenever a man would approach me asking for my services; degrading the little respect and dignity that's left in me on the streets; whenever I was rejected from the most simple of jobs because I went to a school that was run by nuns; whenever I would shiver from the lack of a blanket, or feel my back aching from lying on a cold cement, or get bitten by mosquitoes or get little sleep from all the noise at night; I would blame myself for leaving you.

I would think of how stupid I was to leave behind my love, and my perfect life in the convent and my friends, and then I would weep at night.

But the next day I still needed to get up because no matter how much I wanted to die, I'm still alive."

"Bella, I hoped you never had to experience those things."

He caressed my cheek.

"But I can't," he said, continuing, "Because that's how life is. And I'm sorry I couldn't shield you from it. And I'm sorry that I can't promise you that they won't happen again, because life isn't like that, and the world isn't perfect, and it isn't fair, and most of the times it can be cruel.

And I'm sorry that you have to see that."

I laughed without genuine humor.

"I know, I learned a lot. I learned my lesson. No more running away from you."

He didn't share my laughter, however. Instead, he continued to look me directly in my eyes with sadness reflecting in his.

"I'm sorry you had to experience those emotions. The only thing I can promise here on out, is to be with you every second you feel weak, every moment you feel that you are alone in the world, and every time you shield your pain by pretending to be strong."

Edward's words finally made me smile.

"Oh, come on Edward. Never be sorry that you love me."

"You are so wonderful. I am very lucky."

"I feel as if I'm the one who's lucky here."

He kissed me again – a gentle, caressing kiss.

Once we broke apart, he finally smiled as he blurted out, "So, Eddie."

Remembering my cat Eddie, I couldn't help but laugh.

Edward's smile grew.

"Yes, Eddie. He's with Kate. He's really very loud – he's a small monster, that's what he is. He destroys furniture with his claws on my second-hand leather couch, and put fur on every piece of my clothing. You should have seen my black shirt – washing it does not help at all."

"I kinda hate cats."

Edward's face indeed looked disgusted that another giggle erupted from me.

"I know. You said that earlier this afternoon."

"They move around like they are royalty."

"Yeah, they act like they own the house."

"Why don't you just give him to Kate before we leave Phoenix?"

_What? We're leaving Phoenix?_

I tried to mask my surprise by announcing instead, "I love Eddie."

Edward sighed as though he was about to sacrifice something significant.

"Then I will have to endure him."

"So, we're going back to New York?"

"Do you want to? I have plans after dealing with Aro, and I just thought you wanted to stay somewhere close to Forks."

"Like Seattle?"

I perked up.

"Yeah, if you want."

_Wow._

I laughed.

"You still haven't proposed."

"I know."

He smiled.

"And we just got together today – remember that."

"I know."

He caressed my jaw.

"So, you actually plan on taking Aro head on?"

I held his hand.

"Yes, if I don't act before him, he'd take me out."

A shiver ran down my spine.

"I don't like it."

"I know."

"But if it's the only way …"

"It is," he said with finality.

We were then silent for a few minutes, lost in our own musings. Mine drifting around what he just announced.

I wondered how different the next few days will be, how frantic our lives will be as Edward attempts to take Aro down.

I didn't want to dwell on it. I wanted to remain here in our own little world – cocooned from the harsh realities the outside world can bring.

But I know that that cannot be possible. We could not be happy unless he was truly cut out from Aro.

Was my decision to leave the congregation and spend it with Edward worth it?

Looking at him, staring at his once cold eyes which were now full of life, I decided that yes, it was all worth it. And if I have to die to protect him and to be with him, I will gladly do it.

Even if he fails and Aro might do something to harm us, or worst, to kill us, yes, it was still all worth it.

Because dwelling on 'what ifs' for a few days with him will be a thousand times better than dwelling in forever without him.

"There's something I've been wondering about," Edward suddenly announced, breaking me from my reverie.

"What?"

"The first time you saw me, why were you so adamant about saving me?"

"Aside from you bleeding all over the floor?" I asked, teasing him.

"You know what I mean."

I do know what he means.

"I just believed in you. I saw your eyes, and I knew you were a good person. I saw how agonized they were, and how cold they looked, how much pain and suffering they must have seen, and I knew you were a good person. Even after I learned you killed people for a living, I knew there was still hope for you. Because you didn't want to hurt me, and you sent Alice to protect me, and stalk me," I chuckled, before turning serious again. "And I knew you must have a reason for being the way you are.

Of course, then you showed up at my apartment and took care of Jacob and forced me to stay with you, so I have no other choice."

I shrugged in the end, teasing him.

"I didn't force you."

"You kind of did - you kind of didn't want me to go back to my apartment."

"Yeah."

We both laughed.

"I was happy you didn't," he said as our laughter died down, and then we both smiled.

As we grew silent again for a few minutes, I turned to lie on my back.

Finally, I asked him, "You asleep?"

"No, I'm just thinking."

"Of what? I know it's an ungodly hour but I still don't want to sleep …"

"No, that's not what I mean."

I turned to him again to see him looking up, lost in his thoughts.

"Then what?"

I asked.

"Can you ask me?"

"Of …?"

"My past," he whispered.

As his words sunk in, I gasped in surprise.

I felt thrilled to know that Edward was volunteering his past without me coercing it out of him. It was what I always wanted – him volunteering it at his own time and when he wanted to.

It was like the night when I saw him play the piano.

However, although I was immensely thrilled, there was a part of me that was scared of what I could learn.

Alice has said that Edward's past was far worse than hers, and her past alone was disturbing enough.

What would I hear from Edward?

But he wanted to tell me. And I promised him when we were having our early lunch that I would listen to him.

So I summoned my courage and told myself not to chicken out.

"Why did you kill people Edward?"

He turned his head to me, adjusting his position so that we were both facing each other again.

He looked at my eyes for a long time, searching for something there.

The silence stretched on, and I waited for him, not daring to break the strength I was sure he was trying to summon to tell me his story.

He took hold of my hand and grasped it tightly; I didn't protest; I simply waited.

Finally, he whispered, "I killed fifteen men for one thing alone."

"What?"

"Revenge."

"Tell me," I whispered back.

"I was eight when I discovered that my father was not the usual kind of parent. He was one of the most feared gang leaders."

He chuckled without actual humor.

"It's ridiculous – I'd always thought him too kind, that he couldn't even hurt a fly – but here he was, the most fearsome gang leader, the head of all the mobsters in New York.

His name was Edward Cullen, Sr."

"You're a junior," I remarked with surprise.

"Yes."

"That's why you're so careful with your name."

"Yes.

If they hear I'm named Edward, everyone in the underworld and in the FBI would immediately link me to him. I can go around saying I'm Anthony Cullen, and they wouldn't bat an eye. But the name of my father – just his name – brings fear to every one of them."

"Why did you keep his surname, isn't that too risky?"

"I wanted to be reminded of why I'm doing this."

"But if they killed him, aren't you doing just the same thing as Jasper was doing?"

"It wasn't because they killed him that I do this," he rolled his eyes, and then he grew quiet, collecting his next thoughts.

"I know the rules of the underworld – I knew he wasn't a saint. I knew he killed and did all the other wrongful things that the leaders of every gang would do. There is this one absolute law in my world: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. If you target someone, you immediately give him the permission to harm you back. If you won't do anything, then they won't too. And my father has targeted _a lot._"

"Then, why?"

I grew more confused with every word he said.

Finally, he confessed, "Because they weren't content with just killing him."

Dread filled my chest.

"What do you mean?"

His eyes changed – lost in the memories they were seeing.

They hardened; grew cold; the same state they were the first time I saw them.

I braced myself for what I would hear next.

_"I was fifteen when it happened. I came from school – we had such a typical, American life that no one from my school knew who I really was. I came home, so happy that I won this spelling quiz. I was really good at school, I always won in every sports game or quiz, or even fucking best actor award. I was so happy that day to show my mother my award."_

I could see it: a fifteen-year-old Edward, young, carefree; devoid of his demons; his eyes, innocent; but still devastatingly handsome; still charming.

I tried to picture it: him going to school, no doubt one of the most popular guys amongst the girls. Him playing baseball or soccer, or basketball … Acing exams and spelling bees … Acting in a stage play – he would make a great Romeo.

Him going home, happy, excited, to show his mom his award.

_"Then I came into the house, and everything was just wrong."_

I snapped out of my daydream and braced myself for the nightmare that I was sure to come.

_"Furniture broken; the refrigerator and all its contents spilled on the floor; and there was blood – everywhere."_

My heart drummed, seeing what he must have seen, feeling what he must have felt.

_"I saw my dad's body – only his body. They took his head, probably to brag about it._

_I looked for my mother, my little sister and my older brother, and they aren't there._

_Then a man came to cover my face."_

Tears fell from his eyes as he recalled his sordid past.

I cried too. For the lost child, for the innocent child, who had to see the injustice of the world at an early age; who had all his dreams usurped by the nightmare he has witnessed.

I cried – my heart going out for him – wanting to help him, but was unable to do so.

I cried as I saw his hurt eyes, and all his demons still plaguing him.

I cried as he cried.

_"Next thing I knew,"_ he continued, his voice turning harder, _"I was in a cold cellar, and my wrists were tied. I could have let them off the hook if they didn't do what they did. They're animals. They really are."_

More tears spilled from his eyes, and I wiped them, the same way he has been doing to me.

_"I was in there for a month. I'll spare you all the details of my stay, but let's just say it's not pretty. I still have some of the bruises on my body."_

I cried more, for the hurt he had experienced, for all the torture they inflicted…

There was fear.

There was dread.

But I tried to be strong for him, to listen to him.

Tonight.

At least for tonight.

_"But what they did next – I would never forget. I still dream about it, sometimes I still have nightmares about them."_

Then Edward grew furious; he clasped my hand so tight I could feel the blood flow cut.

I didn't care – my hands could bruise all they want.

_"I saw my mother in almost the same condition as I was. I saw my sister, and she's much worse. Her hair was cut off, and she didn't look like herself at all. And my older brother …"_

He trailed off, sobbing heavily. I could only imagine the terrors he must have seen.

He was purple and blue; he was too frail, too skinny, mangled.

His mother the same; the life in her eyes, gone.

His sister, worse. Shaved hair; indistinguishable; mangled; purple and blue; scared, but unable to receive help.

His older brother; more undistinguishable; tortured over every inch of his body; trying to be strong for his family; reflecting back the terror of his fifteen-year-old brother.

I cringed; I cried; I could do nothing but to wipe away the tears of the present Edward.

_"I could never forgive them. They tortured them all, Bella. They tortured them in every wicked way possible. They tortured my innocent family._

_And what they did to my mother and my sister … it was so much worse."_

I knew what he meant – some men are wicked. They are animals who satiate their thirst with the next available woman they could find.

The hairs on my arms and back were raised.

_"Just because they are women, they forced themselves on them. Repeatedly."_

"I'm so sorry, Edward. I'm so sorry," I uttered, wanting desperately to make everything right for him, but not knowing what to do other than to hold him.

I wiped away the tears from his eyes again.

"They shouldn't have harmed my family! My brother and my poor sister know nothing about the underworld. My mother never took part in any of my father's dealings. 'An eye for an eye', huh? Fuck that damn rule."

When he spoke next, his voice was dead; the words were spoken in a monologue; he was defeated.

_"After a few more days, their bodies couldn't handle it anymore. So, they died, without even having a proper funeral. I just learned that they were discarded somewhere like animals. But I was determined. I told myself I couldn't die – not until I avenged them. I had to bring them justice._

_Aro found me. He killed the two, but seventeen of my captors escaped with my father's money and new titles in the underworld because they killed him. Aro told me he could use my skills. He knew I was the son of Edward Cullen, Sr., so he immediately assumed that I inherited my father's skills. He told me he had been watching me for a while and he could use my intelligence as well._

_At that point, I was consumed with hatred – and his proposal seemed like the only way I could live._

_I made him rich, and I was able to kill those bastards who murdered my family. What more could I ask for?_

So you see, Bella, I am a monster. I became a monster after that. And I'm sorry for selfishly loving you."

I sniffled as I wiped away my own tears.

"No, Edward. You're not a monster – they are. And you can now walk away from all the pain and suffering you had. You can walk away from your past. We will live happily from here on forward. You can let go.

I know I can't speak for your family, but something tells me, if they could see you right now, they would want you to be happy. They would want you to forget about your hatred and finally live your life without all the demons tormenting you after all these years."

I reached for his chest, directly above his heart. I felt his heart beating hard and fast beneath my palm as he held my hand.

"Do you now understand why I was so furious when Jacob forced himself on you, Bella? It took everything for me not to kill him then. And do you now understand how important you are to me? How I felt when you left me? Why I will trade everything just to be with you? I was drowning in all my misery when you came into my life, and you saved me, like the angel that you are. You gave me another purpose to live. I can't lose another important person in my life, ever again. You are an angel sent for me."

I looked at his eyes – his warm, emerald eyes – and said with my utmost conviction, "I will never leave you again, I promise."

He took my hand – the one he was grasping tightly – to kiss my palms.

And we both cried – for a few minutes, for a long time.

And we both stopped, agreeing without words that we're finally leaving everything behind.

His past; my past – to go forward.

Together.

"What are their names? I want to know what your family's names were," I asked to change the mood.

He finally smiled again, though there was still sadness in his eyes.

"My mother's name was Elizabeth, then my older brother was Christian, and my little sister was Samantha."

"Such beautiful names, "I whispered with a smile.

His smile grew.

"My mother – she was very artistic. She taught me how to play the piano, and she decorated our house. She had these china pieces that we couldn't touch and were only for display. She would get mad at me when she saw my room cluttered and messy, or when I left the toilet seat up.

"You had a messy room?"

"I was a typical teenager – cocky, loud and I had a secret stash of porn in my room."

"Oh God," I groaned, having a hard time believing it.

"Sorry."

"It's all right. I'm just not used to it."

He smiled again.

"My mother looked like me. I inherited my weird, untamed, bronze hair from her. And she was beautiful."

"So that's why you're handsome."

"Yeah," He smirked, raising one his eyebrows.

"You're cocky," I pretended to cringe.

"A little bit, yeah," He chuckled.

"And your older brother?"

"Loud, obnoxious, he always picked on me, said I was too much of a girl. He was a bully. But he would always defend me when the other kids would pick on me. He would punch them.

He had my father's hair – black, curly. Emmett reminds me a lot of him."

I could picture it. Emmett, big guy that he was, picking on tiny Edward, but defended him from the other kids.

It was too cute.

"Then there was my sister; energetic, funny, a spoiled princess. That was probably my fault – I spoiled her a lot.

You see, my father was always away, and when he would come back, he would shower us with toys. You really wouldn't think he was a mob leader, much less the head of anything. Others would say that although he was scary, he was fair. And they respected that about him.

So when my father would come home, everything was just normal. And he would be the biggest ally of my little sister.

But when he wasn't there, I was her biggest ally. We all treated her like a princess, which was probably why she acted spoiled."

I can picture everything – the Cullen household, acting as any ordinary family: Loud kids, indulgent parents; scolding mother; tolerant father; bully of a brother; princess-like sister; and Edward, the over-achiever, cocky kid.

It felt warm.

I wanted to see it in real life.

"Sounds like you had a very lovely family."

"Yes, I did and I loved them so much."

"I'm sure they loved you, too."

"I know."

I moved closer to him and kissed him very gently, trying to shower the love I could to make up for his lost family.

Once we broke apart, he was smiling again. There was still sadness in his eyes, but it wasn't the only emotion brewing in there – there was love there as well, for me, and for his late family.

Suddenly, he looked at something behind me and said, "Look at the time – it's almost four in the morning."

I looked to see the digital clock displaying four-ten in green light.

Realizing the time, I suddenly felt all the weight of the day press on me. I yawned, and stretched, and felt my tired muscles straining more.

I closed my eyes, sure that there will be bags beneath them when we wake later.

"I feel drained and tired, but weirdly, I feel so happy that even with how tired I am, I still feel energized," I mused.

"Are you still nervous around me?"

I chuckled without opening my eyes.

"Nope."

"Good. Sleep," I heard him whisper very quietly.

I opened one of my eyes, and he kissed its edge.

"Thank you," I murmured, and I knew that he knew that I wasn't merely thanking him for telling me his past, or making me feel more comfortable with him around. I was also thanking him for finally being here with me.

"Thank you. And I love you," he said in the same manner, thanking me for listening to him, and for staying with him.

I smiled as I responded, "I love you."

He drew me closer to him so that my head was lying in his arms. My other arm wrapped tightly around him as he does the same.

I knew that that wasn't the end to this. Us – being together – is only the start. I knew that we have to face many things, have to _endure_ many things, to finally be free to be together.

But for now, as I lay beside Edward, trying to forget even for a short while what had happened – now, I feel appeased. Content.

And I knew right then that whatever it is that we have to face, we will be facing it _together_.

I was a novice nun. Now I'm a free woman: Free to love who I want, and free to receive love from him.

And this is my first confession:

That I, Isabella Marie Swan, has fallen in love.

I have fallen in love with a murderer.


	23. Author's Note

Hi!

This is not a chapter update.

But I just want to say that I have decided to publish this story, so I will be taking it down in a few days once the preparation is over.

I know you would think, "What the hell? This isn't finished yet!"

It isn't. That's why I'm making it as a trilogy (The Pure and Damned Trilogy).

I will publish the chapters 1-22 as the first book, that's why right now, I will be marking this story as "complete".

The Title of my book would be "Confessions of a Novice Nun (Part I of the Pure and Damned Trilogy)".

I have always wanted to publish it, and when the opportunity arrived, I didn't want to miss it.

Also, there were TONS more thing I wanted to write before really finishing the story, that I could all divide them into three books.

So, with that said, you will find the sequel "The Revelations of a Tortured Soul" on my stories here in fanfiction (where I will move chapter 23 there as the first and second chapter). Don't worry, since that story isn't finished yet, I would still be continuing posting it here.

Please don't hate me.

Thank you for all your support.

And thank you a TON to my wonderful editor, the best, the most-supportive, Fran S. Walsh (SunflowerFran).

Sincerely,

Trisha Cuarts

(Blooming on a Snow)

P.S. You will find that the summary, preface, and the last part on chapter 22 were re-written.

Enjoy!


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